


A Young Class, An Old Era

by John_Clarke



Series: X-Men Academy (Class of 2015) [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Coming of Age, Dark Past, Education, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Intrigue, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Moral Ambiguity, Promiscuity, Sexual Content, Shapeshifting, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7432764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Clarke/pseuds/John_Clarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Academy's new students struggle to find their feet and we learn more about the events that still haunt the mutant world. As our teenage would-be heroes struggle with their own relationships, we discover the the tangled web of alliances that their elders have weaved throughout the years.</p>
<p>This story focus on three through-lines; the continuing development of the original characters during their first year at the academy, the events that led to the academy's previous state of closure and the complicated love life of Raven Darkholme.</p>
<p>This work contains coarse language, strong violence and sexual scenes and references that border the explicit side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I want to try again.”

“What?” Logan had guessed what she meant but he hoped she’d use this opportunity to change her mind and leave.

Jessica very rarely changed her mind. “I want to run through the Danger Room again. I know I could do without any else there to distract me.”

Logan scoffed. “Oh, I’m sure you could, but what would be the point? I’ve seen all I need to see.”

Jessica snarled at that, her brow furrowing in hostility. “No you haven’t. You haven’t even seen my powers!”

Logan did nothing to deescalate the situation, he enjoyed conflict. “I don’t need to see them to know that you screwed up your opportunity. That’s how life works, kid, you don’t get do-overs.”

Jessica didn’t know how to retort.

“If you want to be an X-Man one day you need to make sure you get things right one hundred percent of the time.”

“Then…” She was fuming but she agreed with his sentiment. “Then, give me another shot. I can prove I’m the single most qualified person in the class to be an X-Man.”

Logan smiled. “If you really believe that, then why don’t I give you your shot right now?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Alright, then get ready.”

Jessica shook her head in confusion. “Ready for what?”

He didn’t give her a verbal reply. Rather, he punched her in the face and she went tumbling outside of the hut and onto the field.

She had to react fast, rolling out of the way just in time to miss him landing on top of her with his claws drawn.

Her nose was bleeding and she wiped at her face with her sleeve. She couldn’t afford to linger for long though and after his third move, bounding towards her and slashing at her, she began to run on instinct. 

She dodged out of his way and pulled her body into a fighting stance. As he came around for another attack, she used her telekinesis to tear at the earth beneath his feet. He stumbled and she used the opportunity to boot him in the chest.

He reeled back, shouting encouragement before reengaging. “Good!” He bounded left and right as he progressed towards her, trying to throw off her concentration. It worked and he got in a strike that grazed her arm.

She recoiled in pain but pushed past it, refusing to vocalise it, and sent him flying with a telekinetic throw. She ran over to him and landed a few good hits in before he could recover. As soon as he was up, he went on the offensive, raining down slashes from every direction.

Every single one missed, however, because, with her telekinesis in full effect, she levitated above them in a split-second jump. With a perfect opportunity to get in a finishing strike, she kicked at his head, seemingly knocking him off-balance.

His grogginess was feigned, however, and as soon as she came back down to earth he jumped on her. He tackled her to the ground and held down her neck with his forearm.

He released her as soon as she yielded. “Congratulations, kid.”

“Congratulations for what? I lost.” Her tone was confused and dejected.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “What? Did you expect to beat me?” He chuckled for a while before realising that she was being serious. “Come on, now. If you’d beaten me, we’d have had to get you a uniform and a codename. Ease up a little, kid, you’ve got five years.”

“I’m not a kid.”

He laughed her off. “Go on, now, you best get yourself checked out by the doctor.”

…

**January, 1990**

“Who is she?”

Xavier let out a deep sigh. “Her name is Cassandra. I’ve seen her in my nightmares ever since I was a boy and, now, she’s come to life.”

The news channel was covering the story as it developed. The footage was a mixture of shots from security cameras near the scene of the atrocity and from various helicopters as they followed her on her path of destruction from as safe a distance as possible. Chicago was in ruins. Casualty estimates were continuously being revised upwards.

He turned to MacTaggart, deep in thought and with his eyes welling up. “I should’ve known this day would come.”

She couldn’t offer him a reply, she was now far too transfixed with the television. The anchor was trying as best as he could to remain calm. “We’re now getting reports that the X-Men have engaged the perpetrator of these horrific crimes… Yes, it sound like the team consists of Cyclops, Storm, the Wolverine, Iceman and Marvel Girl… and, it appears, the Avengers have also arrived, thank god… Iron Man and the Hulk are engaging the woman and Captain America is helping with some of the rescue operations…”

The Professor began to feel a migraine coming on and he wheeled himself away from the source of his distress. He needed to rest but his heart was pounding too fast. He couldn’t help but fidget with his hands, trying to keep himself occupied with errant strands of wool on his sweater. The other thoughts vying for his attention were too painful to contemplate. And then… it happened.

He heard Jean Grey, a woman he’d known since she was a child, cry out across the psychic plane in pain and fear. He couldn’t respond before he was sent into cardiac arrest and MacTaggart rushed to his aid.

He woke up in a hospital bed, to the pleasant sight of Ororo Monroe. His voice was weak and dry as he called out to her. “Storm, what’s happened?”

She looked back at him with comforting amber-tinted eyes. Her words, however, couldn’t match the comfort of her eyes. “Something terrible.”

…

“You a student, Logan.” Rogue stared into the older man’s eyes with an emotion somewhere between indignation and trepidation. It ought to come naturally to her, as the head mistress, to discipline her staff, but she’d spent far too long as a rookie under his tutelage for that.

“She didn’t mind.” He was wearing a smirk and ignoring her tone entirely.

“Well, I do mind. You could’ve killed her, for God’s sake.” She regretted reaching with that argument because he tore it to pieces immediately.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know how to control myself. I’ve been doing this for a _very_ long time.”

She was on the back foot, so she changed tack. Her tone became softer. “Could you at least _try_ to do things by the book?”

“All I want is to see these kids succeed, Anna.” He was being earnest, she could tell, and he was unwilling to back down. “I wouldn’t have pulled that with any of the other students. I’ve got a feeling for them all and I know what I need to do to turn them into X-Men.”

She took too long to respond, struggling to come up with a counter-point so he just continued.

“I’ve got more experience in training X-Men than anyone else, barring the old man himself, so I think you ought to cut me slack.”

Rogue nodded and murmured her surrender, letting him leave without punishment. As soon as he left she phoned her husband. “Hey babe, it’s me, I just need someone to vent to, okay?”

Elsewhere in the Mansion, the students were settling into something of a routine. John went out into the woods, with Maria trailing behind, James and Charlotte taught Lucy card games in the lounge, Billy skulked off to his room to read, only joining the others occasionally to eat.

Sofia, however, was not in the library, as would be expected, but was hovering over, and generally pestering, Jessica in the gym.

“I think you should use gentler settings.” Jessica was running on the treadmill far too fast and at too steep of an incline for Sofia’s liking.

“These _are_ gentler settings.” It was against the nurse’s orders to even be in the gym, of course, but that wasn’t something she seemed too concerned about.

“Wouldn’t you rather be resting up?”

“No.”

Sofia was annoyed by that response. “Surely that’d be better for your body.”

“How would _you_ know what’s best for _my_ body?” Jessica’s question was not rhetorical, though she didn’t expect an answer. She slowed her pace down and turned to face the pest.

Sofia didn’t like conflict so she hurriedly raced through her mind looking for diplomatic answers but, finding none, she just stood there with her mouth agape.

Jessica could’ve defused the situation with laughter. Instead, she pushed the issue, increasing the settings and turning to face straight forward as she ranted. “I’ve been through a lot worse than this, and I’m not about to let it throw me off my routine. You’d understand if you weren’t so – ow! Shit!”

She felt something cease up and she jumped off the machine, keeling over in pain.

Sofia tried to comfort her, without making things worse. She placed her hand, delicately, on the other girl’s side. “Are you alright?”

Jessica brushed her handed away and straightened up. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice was strained. “I think I should go rest up.”

Sofia smiled but kept her tone concerned. “That’s a great idea, I’ll help you get comfortable. Would you like a glass of water?”

The other girl shrugged in defeat. “Yeah, sure.”

In the woods, Maria was having some luck with her mark. John was a lot more comfortable with her now that was wearing something approaching winter gear, with a knee-high black skirt and leggings and a red hooded button-up coat over her top.

She felt bad about having to get her clothes dirty but what she was about to gain made up for it. They were traipsing through the woods, making small talk, when she tripped herself up, screeching and pulling him down with her.

To her dismay, however, he’d managed to keep himself from falling over completely and was only down to one knee. She was quick-witted enough to change her plan, however, and when he helped her up she gave him a short, split-second, kiss on the lips, as if in thanks.

“Sorry.” She lied. “I don’t know what came over me.”

John was a little stunned but his politeness forced him to respond quickly. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s just…”

He couldn’t get the rest of her words out before she was back on him, cupping his chin with her gloved hands and standing on her tip-toes to hold him in a deep, long, kiss. He was compelled to break it after a few seconds.

She challenged him immediately afterwards. “I like you, John. Do you like me too?” Her smile was coy and mischievous.

“Of course, but…”

She lit up at that and shouted over him. “Great!” She hugged him tightly. “I was afraid you didn’t.”

…

“Why should we help them? Why not let this crazy bitch kill all those X-Men bastards?” The Blob was rarely so eloquent.

“If we let that happen, then there’ll be no one on our side once we have to put her down.” Mystique knew that Magneto would come down on her side of the argument, no matter how well she stated her case, since he’d already come to the same conclusion, but she still felt compelled to answer the dissenters.

“Why would we even have to fight her? Maybe she’d like the Brotherhood.” Fred seemed desperate to keep questioning her. Raven put it down to fear of the X-Men’s latest enemy.

“She’s killing people… a lot of them, and she doesn’t discriminate between mutants and non-mutants. We have to protect our kind, and not just from humans.” She was unwilling to let him get away with passing off his cowardice as rational thought.

“But, what about…”

“Enough!” Their boss cut him off. “This is no longer up for debate. We must be willing to aid the X-Men if they call on us and, if worst comes to worst, we must be willing to die in order to defeat this villain.”

If it’d have come down to a vote, Mystique would still have won; Toad never voted against their leader, so the Blob would’ve been in a minority of one.

Though the meeting was adjourned, Raven lingered behind to speak privately with Erik. “You should’ve let me convince him.”

The old man sighed deeply. “I would’ve if I were younger, and less sure of myself. As it is, I need my followers to understand that my word is _law_. There’s no need for votes or discussions anymore. I’m tired of it.”

Ever the diplomat, the blue-skinned woman offered her disagreement softly and ambiguously. “Some of them might not… _appreciate_ such a… _new way of doing things_.”

“ _Some_ of them should learn to live with it.”

“Something’s bothering you, isn’t it? More than this Cassandra crisis.”

Erik took a long time to answer. “Yes.” He looked into her eyes for comfort and reassurance, where he always found it. “I’m getting old, Raven, and I fear I won’t live to see the world I once dreamed off. In fact, I predict things will be worse for mutants than they already are when I am on my deathbed and powerless to change things.”

Raven held his hand and spoke confidently. “They’ll always have the Brotherhood watching over them.” It was subtle, but he understood her meaning.

“Yes, they will… and they’ll be led by the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known.”

She could barely contain her pride, and she wore a smile for the rest of the day.

…

“Who here can tell me what _the incident_ was?”

Most of the class came back at Ms Monroe with quizzical looks, hoping she could be more specific. Two hands shot up, immediately, Billy’s and Sofia’s, followed by Jessica’s a few seconds of thought later.

She pointed to Billy and the other two pairs of hands fell. “It was the death of Cassandra Nova.”

“And what was the fallout of her death?”

“The closure of Professor Xavier’s Mansion; the permanent dissolution of Excalibur, the temporary disbandment of both X-Force and the Avengers, the creation of the Woods-Harrison Commission, the Stryker crisis, the assassination of Hank McCoy and the failed invasion of Wakanda.”

“Correct. The incident, as we informally refer to it, is responsible, directly and indirectly, for much of the situation mutants across the globe, but especially in the West, find themselves in. It’s the reason you are here and it is, also, the reason no others have been in your position since the early nineties.

Now, this isn’t a history class, there’s no test at the end, but it’s important for you all to understand what happened on that day.”

…

**February, 1990**

“She was a remarkable woman…”

She sure was, Scotty. Logan tuned out for the rest of the eulogy. He didn’t want to hear it, not from him. He closed his eyes and time passed by. He opened them, and some people had already begun to leave. He couldn’t leave, and he wouldn’t. He refused to leave before Scott had. Soon enough, it was just the two men, standing six feet above her.

Scott was crying, but he wasn’t. That made Logan feel angry, and guilty. For how much he loved her, his demeanour didn’t change. Scott, usually the proud and stoic leader, was reduced to a broken quivering shell of a man. Logan, on the other hand, was his usual gruff and unflinching self.

“Jeanie…” He started his sentence, but couldn’t finish it. He asked her, in his mind, what he should say. She seemed to respond. A ghost of her scolded him. She wanted to be alone with her husband, the man she’d chosen. He gritted his teeth in anguish before huffing and going.

Scott whispered to him. “Thank you.”

He got on his bike and drove back to the Mansion. The rest of the X-Men were there waiting for him. X-Force was there as well, along with Excalibur.

“It is a hard time for us all. Unfortunately, there is work to be done.” The professor did not greet him, he simply began the briefing. Logan understood, beneath his grieving, that there could be no hold-up. “Cassandra Nova will not wait for us to mourn. Even now, she is planning her next move. We know where she is, so we must strike without delay.”

Logan could feel himself getting back into the groove. He chimed in, as if to rally the troops before a battle. “We’ll make her pay for what she’s done.”

Peter led the response, along with most of the younger mutants. “Yeah!” They were eager, but so woefully unready. Some of them were barely old enough to drive. They couldn’t afford to leave anyone out of the fight.

Xavier gave them the details and, then, Storm took charge. “Okay, wheels up in thirty minutes. Get your gear on and your head in the game. Everyone knows who their group leader is. Let’s do this!”

The jet actually waited for a good forty-five minutes. Storm hoped, against hope, that Cyclopes would join them. Only Logan knew for sure he wouldn’t come. Scott was too busy doing what _he_ should’ve been doing; mourning the death of the most beautiful girl the world.

The jet ride was silent, except for some nervous chit-chat amongst the rookies. Xavier communicated with those he needed to, telepathically. Logan knew what he had to do, and that was all that mattered. He needed to be focused. He pushed away his grief for Jean, and his worries for the kids, and zeroed in on his objective. He had to eliminate the Hulk.

They touched down after only an hour, a kilometre or so away from Cassandra. They could see her, though, levitating high in the air in the middle of a field. The big green guy was slumped beside her, on a psychic leash.

The jet’s entire roster, a veritable battalion of mutants, rushed forward. Logan released his claws and became the Wolverine. Peter let his skin turn to metal and became the Colossus. Storm and Rogue flew up into the sky and the Nightcrawler kept pace by disappearing and reappearing in bursts as he ran forward.

The Professor kept his distance, with Banshee by his side. As soon as Cassandra opened her eyes, the real fight began. He tried to get in an early strike but just getting close to her mind caused him tremendous pain. It was after that, when he was forcefully disconnected from her, that he knew something was terribly wrong. In his sudden panic he sent out a psychic signal as far and wide and loud as he could: “Help!”

By the time the others had turned to check on Xavier, Cassandra had made her move. She sent out a psychic wave that knocked most of her enemies off their feet. Only Storm and Rogue escaped when Cassandra disabled them with a powerful kind of psychic paralysis. Logan could see what was happening, as could the few other mutants who hadn’t blacked out. He felt furious and helpless.

Storm went into attack mode, sending lightning strikes down left and right. It knocked Cassandra off balance and she went tumbling into the arms of her big green thrall and bodyguard. He weathered the storm far better and was able to place the bald woman calmly down whilst bolts of lightning cut at his skin.

After about the third or fourth strike, however, he responded. He leapt high into the sky in a single bounded and swatted Storm out of the air like a bug. She fell to the ground, knocked out cold and with a few broken bones for good measure. He took out Rogue in the second bound, despite her best efforts.

“What a pathetic display.” Cassandra surveyed her fallen foes before her face contorted into a sickening grin of devious satisfaction. She looked Charles in the eyes, making sure he was paying attention. “Say, I’ve got a wonderful idea. I think you’ll like this one, professor.”

She walked over to Peter, who’d fallen unconscious and lost his metal skin. “Why don’t I test your men for you?” With a delicate stroke of her hand and minor psychic effort, she brought Peter around. “Let’s have the Colossus fight the Hulk… to the death.”

Xavier was sick to his stomach but he could do nothing. He was unable to speak. Silently, he screamed in pain.

Peter, to his credit, showed no fear. He bulked up and went straight into the fight, saying nothing. He gave Kitty a second-long glance and met her pleading eyes. That cost him.

The Hulk sent him crashing across the field with a savage kick. He followed up with a massive body splash, jumping up into the air and falling back down with all his weight and mass. In his groggy state, Colossus could do little more than brace for the impact. It created a massive, Hulk-sized, crater.

Cassandra’s muscle then fished Peter’s depowered and mangled body out and brought it to his mistress. She flashed the professor a smile before turning her attention to Kitty Pryde, the Shadowcat. Peter’s girlfriend was in tears, and struggled against her psychic restraints with all her might. Next to Logan, she was the closest to willing her limbs back to life.

Cassandra let the girl go. Kitty rushed past her and towards the Hulk, rearing up with a fist. Just before she landed whatever ineffectual blow she was going to, Cassandra spoke. “Now.” With that, the Hulk pulled away from the girl and snapped Peter’s neck.

The Russian’s lifeless body fell to the ground with a dull thud and Kitty fell with him. Cassandra moved over to the wailing girl. “There, there. Let me end your pain.”  
Xavier cried out. “No!” His voice did not carry, however. No sound emerged from his mouth, only a cough and sputter.

Cassandra dove into Kitty’s mind and switched her off, killing her brain and ending her suffering.

That was enough for Logan. The beast took over, locking his mind away from psychic stress and driving his body by instinct and animalistic rage. His claws came out and he bounded towards his prey.

She was startled and cried out for him to stop, bombarding him with ineffective psychical attacks. He got to within inches of her before she managed to respond properly. She threw herself backwards and upwards, levitating out of his reach. With her attention entirely on her feral attacker, however, the other mutants who were still conscious came loose.

Kurt teleported up and behind her, knocking her down with a stiff punch in the kidney. He hopped and skipped down with her, through dimensions, popping in and out to smack her every so often. The only thing keeping Wolverine and the other mutants from ending her once she landed was the Hulk, who’d been sent into a rage. Like a desperate mother bear, he lashed out in fear and panic and anger, clubbing at his enemies and tearing up pieces of earth.

Banshee’s sternum was crushed and Wolfsbane was thrown through the air at a mile a minute, only saved from certain death by a quick-thinking Nightcrawler. He brought the young werewolf back into the fight and they tried to help Logan bring the big man down.

He’d avoided a few clumsy strikes and managed to climb up onto the Hulk’s back, piercing deep into the monster’s muscle as he moved up to his neck. Wolverine’s backup didn’t get to do anything, however.

Cassandra was up to her feet, only slightly aching and dazed. She sent out another burst of psychic energy and the pair flopped to the ground like dolls whose owner was done playing with them. After that, she secured her link with her green protector, helping him think more tactically.

The Hulk easily grabbed the pest on his back and threw him off. He proceeded to pummel him into submission for good measure, partially burying him in raked up earth as he did so. “Enough.”

Cassandra got her servant to cease and move onto a new target. “The blue one. He hurt me. I want you to tear him in two.” She spat out her words with an awful mixture of whiny pettiness and sadistic venom.

The Hulk did as he was told, picked up the prone and helpless teleporter and tore him apart.

Xavier averted his eyes and fought back tears. “Aren’t you grateful, Charles?” The voice clawed its way into his mind. “I’m cutting the wheat from the chaff.”

He felt hopeless. However, having turned away from her, he could see a figure emerging from the forest. His heart came alive when he saw the figure more clearly; a man wearing a red helmet, black robes and a purple cape.

His new hope quickly turned to fear, however, as he turned back to Cassandra. He was desperate to believe that she would, somehow, ignore this figure until he could close the distance. To his infinite astonishment, she was distracted. As he narrowed his focus, he understood why.

A woman stood before her, in bright green spandex and with a full head of vibrant red hair. It was… Jean... it was the Phoenix!

Xavier’s heart was, cruelly torn in another direction, again, however. Cassandra, after a moment of shock and hesitation, managed to drop the woman to the ground. The green spandex disappeared, replaced with blue skin, and her long flowing locks shortened dramatically.

However momentary it was, Cassandra _had_ been distracted and the Professor's heart lurched _yet again_ , as Magneto managed to close the distance and catch her off-guard. He grabbed her scrawny neck, levitated high into the air and proceeded to choke the life out of her.

Her psychic attacks were utterly useless but, in a last-ditch effort to save herself, she called out for the Hulk to save her. Magneto noticed the raging green figure lumbering into his peripheral vision and calmly raised his free hand, as if to command the monster to stop.

Cassandra got out some choked laughter before realising what exactly her enemy had done. Pulled through the air by Magneto’s unparalleled powers of magnetism, Logan came cruising down onto the Hulk’s shoulders. Before the big guy could react, he jammed both pairs of his claw deep inside the Hulk’s neck before tearing them back out in a gruesome shower of red and green chunks of flesh.

After seeing her bodyguard crash to the ground, Cassandra’s eyes lost all hope. A few seconds later she died of asphyxiation.

…

Ms Collins’ aroma was irresistibly enticing. Her powers, which he presumed she was utilising to calm and soothe her students, were having the opposite effect on James.

“Close your eyes.” Sofia, Charlotte and Lucy did so at their young teacher’s command. James, on the other hand, took his time and only relented once he was sure he could immediately conjure up an image of her in his mind; he could, though one with decidedly fewer items of clothing.

“Image you’re in a field on a warm summer’s day. There are no bugs or other pests to worry about, only the calming lightly breezy air. You’re alone, or with a good friend, just lying in the grass taking in the sights and sounds.”

Charlotte couldn’t resist prying and she decided to experience the other students’ imaginations. Lucy’s was very innocent, she was alone in the field starring at a mountain range in the distance very intently, as if she was waiting for someone.

Sofia was imaging herself sitting next to Jessica. However, in her vision, Jessica was gently laughing and smiling, something Charlotte wouldn’t have associated with the real person. She retreated from Sofia’s mind as soon as she sensed emotions of a deeply personal nature, and went onto James.

He was watching their teacher prancing through the field, stark naked, and calling to him to come join her. He rushed over to her, eagerly, and Charlotte moved on before she had to witness what came next.

When she elected to go back to Lucy’s mind, however, she was confronted with something startling. It was no longer a warm summer’s day, rather it was snowing heavily. For whatever reason, Charlotte couldn’t feel the cold. She could feel a growing sense of dread, however, as a beastly apish figure covered in black fur, with glowing yellow eyes, came lumbering towards her.

She opened her eyes, after desperately rushing back to her own mind, and Ms Collins immediately noticed her peculiar demeanour, she had to catch her breath and grip her chest with her hand, as if to keep her heart from exploding.

Laurie took her student out of the room, making sure not to disturb the others. “What’s wrong, Charlotte?”

“It’s nothing, I think my powers just might be acting up a little.” She felt guilty about prying. “I’m fine now, though.” She half expected Lucy to scream in terror when she came back in but, instead, she saw the enigmatic girl sitting with her eyes still firmly closed, quietly humming away to herself.

…

**May, 1993**

“It’s not every day I get a visit from the Vice President of the United States.” Logan drew out the blue man’s title in a derisive drawl.

Hank’s tone was grave but sincere. “Yes, well, it’s not every day we go to war.”

Logan chuckled at that one. “America’s a peaceful country, for sure.”

“You’ve lived here for a long time, but I imagine that’s not earned us your allegiance.”

“You imagine right.” Logan was tiring of their conversation before it had even really got started. “So, what do you want, Beast?”

Hank received his old codename like a bullet to the chest. “I’m not a beast, anymore, Logan. I’m a man.”

“You’re a politician but, yeah, I guess that’s close enough.”

“I want you to kill the Black Panther.”

“Fuck off.”

The plane took off a few hours later, bound for Wakanda. Logan knew enough of the details but his partner was the lead on the operation. He didn’t know how he felt about that. He didn’t know how he felt about _her_.

The blue woman was sat opposite him. They were both buckled in and they’d spent the past five minutes or more locking eyes but saying nothing. Mystique smiled through it, darkly, but Logan’s face was set in its usual lazy frown.

He broke the silence. “I’ve had dreams about you.”

Despite having a good idea of what he _really_ meant, Raven played with him. “I’m flattered.” She winked.

Logan ignored her teasing. “They’re always the same, and I get them a lot. In the dream, I’m sitting in a meadow with Jean, and it’s the best feeling in the world…” He inhaled, deeply. Just saying her name hurt. “But, then, when I look away for just a second, and I do look away _every single time_ , she’s gone. And, you’re there.”

“Maybe you should see a shrink.”

“No. I’ve figured it out myself. My problem is that I’m going to be hung up on Jean for the rest of my life. Do you know why?”

Raven shrugged, maintaining her smile.

“Because, the last time I saw her, she’d come back from the dead to save me. I was give one last opportunity to say goodbye, and _you_ took it away from me.”

“Bullshit.”

That got a reaction from him, and Logan bared his teeth. “How’d you figure that?”

“You can say goodbye to her any time you want. I’m just a phone call away.”

That caught him off-guard. He couldn’t reply. His face went a little white and they spent the rest of the journey in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students are put through more tests and trials by Logan and we learn more about his past. He'd rather leave these violent memories buried in the past but they represent a critical event in Mystique's rise to power and the arduous journey of the X-Men from the bring of collapse to their eventual resurgence.
> 
> Content Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of sex (nothing graphic) and violence.

The staff room was cosy. A little too cosy for Logan’s taste, but cosy all the same. He was reclining in an armchair, sipping a bottle of the cheap stuff, when the others came in to join him. Laurie was picking at a pot of pasta salad and Storm was holding a cup of coffee close to her chest.

“Where’ve you two been?” He asked the question as if he already knew the answer.

“Rogue’s office, talking about you.” Laurie was as giggly as an adult as she had been as a child, when Logan first met her.  
“Oh, yeah? What’d she say about me?” He was holding back a shit-eating grin.

“That you’re a menace with a violent streak a mile wide.” Laurie meant the answer to be a joke, and Logan took it that way. Storm, however, felt differently. She gave Logan a knowing look and he returned her one of shame and remorse; he was reminded, in that moment, that he could never be forgiven in her eyes, no matter how much time passed.

He broke away from her gaze, to keep the conversation flowing. “Well, someone’s got to put these kids through their paces. The X-Men are in desperate need of new blood, and it’s on us to make sure they get it.”

…

Wolverine came in hot, leaping from the jet’s partially descended ramp, a good twenty metres from the ground. A few bullets tore through his chest but, by the time he was down on the ground and right in the thick of it, the wounds they’d caused had healed.

He wiped out what felt like an entire battalion, cutting through them with ease. He kept his eyes closed for a long period of time, whilst he got done with the majority of the killing. He knew that if he saw too much, too many faces, he wouldn’t be able to get it over and done with.

Once he was finished, he surveyed the gross human carnage and muttered to himself. “I’ll never forgive you for this, Beast.”

Mystique joined him soon after, resting a hand on his shoulder, as if to comfort him. “Good job.” He recoiled from her touch and spat out a response.  
“Let’s just get this over with.”

She look through the bodies for a uniform that wasn’t too badly cut up, or too heavily drenched in blood. She found one, mimicked its form and the body of the man wearing it. The process made Logan heave.

As a desperately frightened Wakandan soldier, she ranted into the dead guy’s walkie-talkie. “Lieutenant Tamu requesting urgent assistance! Oh my God! Everyone’s dead! Repeat, requesting urgent assistance!” She took her mouth away from the gadget just a few inches, so that it picked up her frantic hyperventilating. “Target is down! I repeat, the target _is_ down! I think he’s just knocked unconscious, though… I don’t know when he’s going to wake up! Oh God! … Over.”

“Don’t worry, soldier. Help is on its way. Stay calm and stay sharp. Over.”

She smiled at that, and winked at Logan, who looked away. He helped her drag a few bodies over the duplicate corpse, keeping his head held high the whole time, refusing to look down again on the mess he’d made.

“We’re monsters.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if it were common knowledge.

“On the contrary, we’re soldiers, just like they were.” Raven was talking in her normal accent, which freaked Logan out coming from the mouth of a recently deceased African man. “The only difference is, you’re much better at fighting than they were.”

When ‘help’ came, Logan feigned unconsciousness and they were taken straight to the capital city. Mystique, or rather, Lieutenant Tamu, was told that the Black Panther wanted to oversee the Wolverine’s interrogation personally. She mused, inwardly. “This is going to be even easier than I expected.”

“I told you not to send regular soldiers!” Storm was enraged with her lover. “You never listen to me! And, now, look at what it has cost us! Think of the families of all those good men!”

He made no protest, accepting her wrath with calmness and stoicism. “You’re right, I should’ve heeded your word. However, my mistake was not the cause of those families’ grief. That’s on your friend.”

“He’s not my friend!” She was growling now, as her explosive temper turned towards quieter resentment. “Anyone who could shed so much blood is no friend of mine. I will not grieve for him when he is put down!”

T’Challa reached out for his wife, stroking at her arm. “Be more honest with yourself. You want to understand why he’s done this. You _will_ grieve for him, as we’ll all grieve for the memories of good men gone bad.”

“An interrogation would not break him. Trust me on that, as you now realise that I know him much better than your generals.”

“I trust your word that an interrogation administered by my generals would not break him. However, what I have in mind is much different.”  
Her anger subsided, as a brief sense of curiosity took over and she arched one of her eyebrows.

“I’m having him brought here. We will oversee the interrogation ourselves.”

And, now, she was back to being angry. “Are you insane!? He’s here to kill you! Why would let him get so close to you!?”

“I have… an insurance policy.”

…

“Is there something between us?” John and Maria were sat on the same solid branch they’d climbed almost every day since finding it. He was no more convinced now than he was back then that she actually enjoyed exploring the woods or climbing trees.

She giggled at his question, though he’d asked earnestly. She made him wait for an answer, and teased him with something entirely unsatisfactory. “I don’t know. Is there?”

“I’m being serious.”

At that, she pulled herself off him and clambered down the tree. She did it all so briskly, and then began to wander off without a word, that he thought he’d offended her. He took off after her. 

“Hey, Maria! I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, somehow.”

She laughed at turned around to face him, her face beaming. “I thought you said you were being serious, and then you go and say something so silly.”

He laughed a little, though he wasn’t sure he got the joke, if there even was one to get. “Okay, but you never answered my question.”

“Yes I did, you just didn’t like the answer.”

He took a deep breath before making his next move. He was concerned for her feelings, but he already felt bad for not saying something sooner. He’d dealt with girls like her before, and his persistent desire to avoid confrontation always made things worse in the end.

His preparatory deep breath clued her in that she might not like what she was about to hear, so she turned away to make sure she could save face.  
“Well… I, kind of, have a thing for Charlotte.”

The sensation was crushing and, for a brief moment, Maria felt as if she might cry. Instead, she made a split-second decision to shift her strategy up into high gear. She turned her frown upside down and turned back to face him. She acted as if he’d said something different, or simply said nothing at all, and rushed over to him.

She kissed at his face and neck, roughly and messily. He tried to shift awkwardly away from her but, short of pushing her, he couldn’t find a way to escape her attention. She fumbled at his jeans, unbuckling his belt and popping the buttons undone.

She fell to her knees, and he felt helpless to stop her. She made sure to grab a firm hold of his waist long enough to arouse him into a more willing position.

After it was all said and done, he was overcome with regret. He, hurriedly, buttoned his jeans back up and jogged away from her. He couldn’t resist muttering. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She couldn’t help but smile at that question. She had him. She put on her best impression of some other girl, much less confident than herself. Sputtering, and crying, she returned his question with one of her own, still knelt on the ground. “Did… did I do it wrong?”

That threw him into reverse. “No. No, I’m sorry. This is just… I’m not used to this.” He was as confused at his own sentiment as she was, unsure exactly of what ‘this’ was.

…

The helicopter landed at some kind of military base, Wolverine was immediately strapped to a stretcher, with large metal bolts holding down his arms and legs, and Mystique or, rather, Lieutenant Tamu was led off to be debriefed.

As soon as Logan was out of her sight, however, she was shocked with a voltage that sent her tumbling to the floor in a blackout daze and her appearance reverted to its usual blue-skinned red-haired beauty.

The questioning began as soon as Logan was wheeled into the interrogation room. The Black Panther seemed to know that he was only playing at being unconscious, as he made no attempt to rouse him. “The Horn of Africa is abuzz with American military activity. My people are sending me near hourly reports of illegal fly-overs and all sorts of other territorial violations. Oh, and, yes, just recently a few dozen of my finest soldiers were gruesomely massacred along the Kenyan border. Would you mind telling me just what the _hell_ is going on!?”

Logan did not answer, though he did open his eyes. He regretted it instantly, as he saw Storm standing just behind her husband. He pleaded some kind of innocence to her, with his eyes, but she just crossed her arms and looked away in rejection.

“How did the US government purchase your loyalty? Was it simply a matter of money? A few million dollars and a nice house in the countryside?”  
That got to Logan. He was a proud man, at heart. “I’m not some stinking mercenary!”

“Then what are you? Until today, I’d have said the Wolverine was a superhero. It appears, however, that you have become a villain.”  
Logan scoffed. “What a childish thing to say!”

“Enlighten me. Are you a crusader, here to bring justice to our nation? Have we grown too big for our boots? Are we in need of cutting down?”

He didn’t answer any of those questions. Instead, he stayed quiet in silent defiance. He wanted, badly, to complete his mission and withdraw from the world. He didn’t want to have to dwell on the morality of the whole thing. Hank had convinced him, only marginally, and it wouldn’t take much to throw him into a state of existential despair.

T’Challa changed tack, as his questions found no answers. Instead, he directed them towards his wife, hoping to play on the guilt Logan, no doubt, felt over betraying an old friend. “Tell me, my love, would the man you knew for so many years do this? Would Wolverine, the X-Man, make war on a peaceful people for the benefit of the politicians?”

Storm didn’t get a chance to respond. Logan thrashed against his restraints as he yelled out of series of defences for his actions. “It’s not for the politicians! It’s for all the mutants in America! The public’s out for blood! They want something to hate, and they need a distraction! What’s the death of a few soldiers and your little tin-pot dictatorship to avert a mutant holocaust!?”

The Black Panther chuckled at that. “So, the truth finally comes out. You thought of this as a noble endeavour?”

Logan resented the man’s tone. With Mystique nowhere to be found, though she should’ve kicked the whole thing off by now, he decided to put the plan into motion; kill the Black Panther, then and there, and get the invasion started. He broke free from his restraints, with relative ease, and took an almighty swing at his enemy.

He was stopped mere inches from the man’s face, however. He was suspended in mid-air, a familiar force acting on his bones and holding them in position. Only his eyes were free to move, he used them to search, frantically, for his nemesis.

Magneto emerged from the shadows soon enough. “Do you truly think our people so weak, Logan? Do you believe mutant-kind needs the protection of the politicians? A nice little war to keep the yokels from hunting us down?”

They were rhetorical questions. Logan’s jaw was held firmly shut.

“On the contrary, it would benefit us for the American public to show us their true face. Mutants the world over would join our cause, and help the Brotherhood wage war against our oppressors.”

He gave Logan a knowing look. “But, I think you understood that, didn’t you? You weren’t concerned for the plight of your mutant brothers, but for the nonsense of a dream your mentor raised your team on.” He was loving this. “A civil war, between mutants and humans, would render his entire career pointless. He’d die knowing that he was wrong, and that I was right!”

…

James was grinning, from ear to ear. “So, I hear you and Maria hooked up today.”

John felt redness begin to swell in his cheeks. He wanted, desperately, to know just what he’d heard and where he’d heard it from. “What?”

“She’s been going around telling anyone who’ll listen that you’re her boyfriend.”

John looked up at Charlotte, who was hovering over his bunk, as if to find confirmation. She gave it to him. “It’s true.”

“Well… yeah, I am. I guess.”

James titled his head, to a queer angle. “You guess? What does _that_ mean?”

“It means that I’m tired. Can we talk about this some other time?”

James threw his arms up in mock surrender. “Sure. Good night, player.”

It was a few minutes later when John began to hear the thoughts of the girl above him. She was heart-broken. He whispered to himself. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

The morning after, he got up early to catch Jessica on her morning run. He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected to get out of it. They ran in silence for a good ten minutes before he began to bear his soul, unprompted.

“So, I don’t know what to do about Maria.”

She looked at him, annoyed but not surprised. “I’m going to need a little more to go on than that.”

“I don’t like her… I mean, I like her but just not in that way… and now, we’re together, I guess… and I can’t just break up with her a day after agreeing to go out with her.”

At that, she stopped dead in her tracks. He followed suit, and she grabbed his shoulders, locking eyes with him, trying to get through to him. “No one else can break up with her for you.”

She let it sink in before continuing on with her run. He followed her, after standing around awkwardly for a few moments of contemplation. It was important for him to keep up the pretence that he’d wanted to run with her, and that he’d brought up his relationship trouble just to break the silence.

…

Logan sighed, deeply and shakily. He felt ashamed but, also, embittered. He wanted to focus all of his anger on Magneto for foiling his plan, but he knew that the blame lay squarely at his feet; he shouldn’t have agreed to take part in the mission, he’d broken an old friendship irrevocably and for nothing.

Mystique was not so down on herself. “This is a mistake.” Her comment was directed at Magneto, but he was up with the pilot, whilst they were stuck in the cargo hold. “He’s letting his ego affect his decision. Throwing away our alliance to keep his pride intact. He has no sense of perspective!”

Logan scoffed at that. “The alliance was held together with duct tape, anyway. The X-Men are better off without the Brotherhood, in the long run.”

Raven’s eyes were full of sharpness and spite. “Don’t be such a fool! We could accomplish great things together. We could share information and resources, all for benefit of mutant-kind.”

“Our alliance began out of necessity, there’s no reason it should’ve continued after Cassandra’s death.”

At that, she slammed Logan up against the steel wall, forcing him to meet her gaze and pay attention to her. “Listen to me! I’m talking about a new era! Imagine how quickly we could’ve defeated Cassandra if we’d all been on the same side when the crisis began. Imagine the lives we could’ve saved.”

That hit him hard, a look of understanding came over his eyes and he stopped struggling against her. “You’re right.” He barely managed to give out his response without crumbling.

She let him go. “I’m glad you’re beginning to understand. I’ll need your support when I make my move.”

That remark confused him. “Move? What move? What’re you talking about?”

As casually as if she were remarking upon the weather, she explained. “I’m going to take over the Brotherhood. I have support amongst the rank-and-file and I’ll be moving against Magneto over the course of the next few months. Once I’ve done so, I’ll make an offer to Xavier to rebuild the alliance. If you tell him to accept, he will.”

He admired her ambition, though he doubted her chances of success were as high as she seemed to believe. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me?”

“He won’t want to lose you. He’s a very old man with no other potential heirs. Think about it; Scott’s a shell of his former self, Storm’s playing princess in Africa, Iceman’s gone missing, Hank’s a politician. Who else is there, that he’d trust as much as you?”

Logan’s brow furrowed. He’d always thought of himself as a caretaker, acting president in some trying times, not as a true leader. Despite that, he couldn’t, try as he might, find any convincing counter argument. “I guess not. Then, fine, I’ll tell him to accept. But that’s only if you can pull this off. And that’s a big if.”

…

“This is the most sophisticated programme the Danger Room is capable of running. Once you step through you will be challenged like never before and if you don’t give it your all you will get hurt.”

Jessica, as ever was raring to go. John seemed distracted, and everyone else expressed various states of apprehension.

“You’ll need to pair up for this exercise. Each team will face fifteen minutes of hell.”

Maria’s hand shot straight for John’s, making the first pair instantly. Sofia positioned herself close to Jessica, as subtly as she could manage. Lucy asked James to pair up with her, and he politely agreed. That left Charlotte and Billy, who became a pair solely by awkwardly looking around instead of acting on their initial impulses.

The first pair headed in, to find a simulation completely unlike what they’d come to expect. Instead of bright white walls and floors, they encountered a dark and dingy industrial interior, seemingly to some kind of disused factory.

Directly ahead of them was a wall, with a dinky metal ladder leading up to a large empty surface. Behind the wall, and down a few metres, they could hear voices and footsteps. John called back to the control room, which was obscured by a holographic wall that had sprung up behind them. “What’s our objective?”

Logan’s voice came in over the speaker system, though none of the voices or footsteps seemed stop, suggesting that couldn’t hear it. “You’re secondary objective is to investigate your surroundings. Your primary objective… is to survive.”

John shrugged at that, and motioned for Maria to join him in scale the ladder. They got up onto the surface and crawled on their bellies to catch a glimpse of what was going on below them, without giving themselves away.

There were dozens of soldiers, marching up and down, in black and bulky uniforms, with a few larger, less human-looking, commanders shouting orders, seemingly at random. They were all carrying rifles in their hands, with batons holstered at their sides.

John tried prying into one of the soldiers’ minds. He didn’t expect it to work, assuming they were either holograms or robots and that neither beings had thoughts, as such. To his surprise, he was able to draw some very basic and very startling information from one of them. He whispered it to Maria. “They know we’re here.”

“Shit.” They rolled away from the edge. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

With that answer, Maria took the initiative. She sprang up to her feet, making a split-second evaluation of her targets, before conjuring up a large burst of fire, which she sent hurtling into the biggest cluster.

Before they could react, she dropped back down, letting out a round of nervous laughter. He couldn’t help but respond with laughter of his own, a reaction to the brief adrenaline rush he’d felt as soon as she’d popped up.

Rifle fire clattered against the wall, after a few seconds of panicked shouting from down below. Instinctively, they rolled away from it. The shots were soon chipping away at the brick, narrowing the surface and pushing them further and further away.

They turned to get down, but soon discovered more soldiers pouring in from the other side; holograms appearing from thin air. Maria, instinctively, sent a fire-ball hurtling towards the front line. It wasn’t enough, however, and they were soon being peppered with bullets; the holographic projectiles caused a painful electric shock as soon as they made contact with their suits.

Maria cried out in agony and James passed out from the bombardment, falling to the floor, his fall somewhat cushioned by a crash mat. With that, the simulation ended prematurely, with the in-built safety protocols having been triggered.

As soon as he came to, James was sent off to the infirmary. Maria received no such respite. Logan pointed to her and asked an open question. “Can I anyone tell me what Maria did wrong?”

Jessica answered, with all the other students looking away to avoid his glare and, moreover, to avoiding having to answer. “She attacked before formulating a sound strategy.”

Logan nodded before speaking to the girl more directly. “If that was a real mission you’d probably be dead and James _definitely_ would be! Do you understand that?!”

Billy, Lucy and Charlotte all jumped in their skin once Logan raised his voice. Maria murmured an answer, clearly on the verge of sobbing. He pulled away from her as soon as he realised he was getting to her.

“Alright, Sofia you’re up. Try to do better than your sister.”

As Jessica entered, with Sofia trailing hesitantly behind her, the Danger Room reconfigured its appearance; the grime was replaced with steel floors and walls. In the centre of the room, an artificial ditch stretched from one end to the other. Instead of water however, it was filled with an extremely hot red liquid, they could feel the intensity of the heat and hear the constant bubbling and popping all the way back at the entranceway.

The liquid was causing a thick jet of steam to rise up all the way to the ceiling. Beyond the steam, the girls saw four soldiers guarding a control panel. They made their way, tentatively across the room and, at a certain point, the guards started to raise their rifles. Before they could get a single shot off, however, Jessica pulled their firearms away from them with a flick of her wrist; they fell into the red liquid and none of the guards tried to retrieve them.

In fact, Jessica’s opening move seemed to startle them and they rushed off, phasing through the limits of the room into nothingness.

“I guess we could just wait the fifteen minutes out here.” Sofia’s remark was only half-joking.

Jessica ignored her. “We need to find a way to access that control panel, it wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t part of the test.”

“Couldn’t you control it telekinetically?”

Jessica scoffed at that. “Yeah, I guess I could push some random buttons… don’t be an idiot.”

Sofia was a little hurt by the remark but she elected simply to prove that she _wasn’t_ an idiot, rather than protest. “So, we need to find a way through the steam without getting burned.”

“I assume that’s where you come in.”

With that prompt, Sofia tried to conjure up some ice to cool the liquid. It didn’t work. The steam melted the ice in a matter of seconds.

“Damn it!” Jessica kicked at the dirt in frustration, not that there was any dirt to kick. “Can’t you create something thicker, to act like a bridge through the steam or something?”

Sofia tried as hard as she could. She couldn’t get more than a few inches into the steam, however, before her icy construct had melted entirely. “It’s impossible.”  
Jessica shook her head. “It can’t be impossible, they wouldn’t create a task that was impossible to complete.”

“But that doesn’t mean it’s possible to get through the steam, maybe there’s another way to complete the task. We don’t even know what the task _is_.”

As if in response to the girl’s pronouncement, a second batch of guards, or perhaps the first batch reset and rearmed, rushed through the walls and into the room. They began firing immediately.

None of their bullets came close to hitting the girls, however. Jessica had raised her hand, reflexively, stopping the gunfire dead in its track. The bullet-swarm, growing more numerous by the second, was suspended in the steam.

“I have an idea.” Jessica waited for the soldiers to unload their clips before acting on her plan. With her free hand, she knocked them off their feet and threatened to drag them into the liquid. She didn’t have the strength to really pull it off but the threat was all she needed and they fled in terror. After that, she manipulated the bullets into a cluster, a few inches wide and deep and spanning the width of the ditch.

“Can you encase yourself in ice?” Jessica asked this of Sofia, as if it were just the sort of everyday question you asked someone.  
“I think so, maybe. But I don’t know if I’d be able to break free.”

“I’ll worry about that, you just do it and I’ll send you across.”

Sofia winced at the prospect. She wanted, desperately, to raise several thousand objections to the plan, but an insistent part of her demanded she keep her mouth shut and do everything Jessica asked of her. She nodded after a few seconds of hesitation and felt herself being levitated a few inches off the ground.

It was a curious, and exhilarating, experience. It was not as if she were flying but as if she was being held aloft by hundreds of hands, though she tried and failed to determine exactly what parts of her body were being held and which were not. The longer she lingered in the air, the more it felt as if it was her skeleton being held, rather than the muscle and flesh which surrounding it. It felt very intimate.

“Well?” One of Jessica’s eyebrows became arched in frustrated curiosity. “Aren’t you going to do it?”

“Oh, yes – right – yes, sorry.” She felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment but she covered them up quickly enough, as with the rest of her body, in a cocoon of thick and foggy ice.

With all the pieces in place, the blonde-haired girl concentrated very hard. With her right hand, she held the bullets together in a solid mass. In her other, she pushed Sofia through the steam. It worked and Jessica allowed herself a second-long smirk of self-satisfaction.

With Sofia across, she cracked the ice cocoon. This proved to be a little difficult. With one hand holding the bridge together, she struggled to find the right motion with her left hand to achieve the desired effect. Of course, her powers came from her mind, rather than her hands, so she eventually managed, but she always found it far easier to utilise her powers when she focused them through her hands; as if she were a sorceress wielding a potent stream of magic.

Free from her self-imposed restraints, Sofia got to work on the control panel. As it turned out, no mashing of the keypad was necessary. Instead, the monitor had a touch-screen asking for a hand-print to be filled. It was fortunately teenage-girl-shaped and responded to her touch by lighting up green, draining the pool of red-hot fluid and, to Sofia’s horror, caused the wall it was embedded in to pull away and collapse into the ceiling.

She was confronted by a massive hallway filled with dozens of mean-looking soldiers holding rifles. Without warning, they unloaded on her. She squeaked in fear and turned her head away, scrunching up her face and closing her eyes, as if it would make the slightest bit of difference.

She had nothing to fear, however, as Jessica flew right past her, stopping the bullets dead in their tracks and sweeping the soldiers off their feet. She accomplished this in a matter of seconds, pouring the bullets down on the soldiers in a brutal hail-storm. They sputtered into a bright holographic death.

It was then that the girls saw what the soldiers had been guarding. Indeed, it was only then that they discovered the soldiers had been guarding anything at all. A magnificent gem, pale and red, was held on a stand at the far-end of the hall. Jessica made a mad dash for the gem but, just as she was inches away from retrieving it, the simulation ended and the walls turned a bright white; the gem and every other hologram, such as the pool of bullets that cluttered the hall, disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Fuck!” Jessica kicked at the air.

“Time’s up.” Logan didn’t look impressed when they came through. “Well, at least you didn’t get yourselves hurt but that thing with the cluster of bullets, trying to disperse the steam so you could get her across slowly, that was a total waste of time. You should’ve just thrown her across as fast as possible.”

Jessica couldn’t meet his gaze. She muttered her defence under her breath. “I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

“X-Men get hurt. The Danger Room is where you learn to be X-Men. It follows, then, that the Danger Room is where you learn to get hurt and get back up. Do better next time, Jessica.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The die is cast! We observe the initial phase of Mystique's leadership bid, as more of the fallout from 'the incident' is revealed. Meanwhile, in the present day, our heroes-in-training deal with more of the drama of teenage life.
> 
> Content warning: This chapter contains coarse language, mild violence and strong sexual references.
> 
> Constructive criticism and general feedback would be much appreciated.

**August, 1993**

It required a lot of grovelling to get back on Erik’s good side but, once she was there, Raven did not hesitate to press her advantage. He was an old fool, totally blind to her treacherous thoughts. She was planning a coup and her victim was all too happy to help put everything in place.

She needed another supporter within the Brotherhood’s leadership and it hadn’t been hard for her to convince Magneto to put the Blob’s seat up for grabs. The Blob’s appearance and power-set were a curse, especially when it came to a person’s perception of him. It required little more than a whisper for Magneto to come to the conclusion that he was growing lazier and more indulgent by the day.

It was time for some new blood. Fortuitously, a strong candidate had presented himself. Popular amongst the rank-and-file and secretly loyal to the shapeshifter, Sabretooth was raring to go when the Blob finally showed up to defend his position.

Magneto gave a short address to the hundred-strong crowd of followers who’d gathered in the re-purposed dining hall, eagerly anticipating blood. “We must be willing, in these trying times, to devote ourselves to the cause. A friend stands accused of failing in this duty and a challenger stands to take his place. Let us see if the rumours are true. Let us see our brothers fight and _bleed_ to prove their worth!”

The crowd erupted into a roar of approval. As their leader sat back in his seat, over-looking the fight on a balcony, Mystique smiled at him affectionately, winking. She mouthed the word: “Excellent.”

The gathered membership didn’t have to wait long to see blood. Barely a minute passed between the first blow, which Sabretooth landed on the Blob’s neck to explosive effect, and the decisive finish. Sabretooth tore his opponent’s head from his shoulders in one tremendous and sickening feat of strength.

In the midst of the mass of bodies, cheering him and all fighting for a chance to shake his hand or, even, simply touch his body for a fleeting moment out of awe and admiration, Sabretooth looked up at his lover. They shared a smile; hers a cunning half-smirk, and his a toothy grin. Raven was the first to avert her eyes in order to catch sight of their, soon-to-be, ex-leader. The old man cast her a knowing looking and let out a deep, foreboding, sigh.

Later that day, she secreted herself away to await her champion. They needed a seedy motel room to talk privately, as the Brotherhood’s den was abuzz with talk of the fight and a hundred mutants all looking to pat the new-comer on the back or challenge him to a drunken brawl.

“You did well. Erik was impressed, which will keep him from acting against us for a while. He must know, at least partly, what our plan is – he’s a smart man – but his respect for talent and for raw power will prove to be his undoing. I doubt he’s even considered blocking you from taking your seat.”

Victor had listened to every word, but he didn’t offer up his own opinion. Instead, he showered her with passionate kisses; a release of the nervous energy he’d been carrying since the fight had ended. She surrendered herself to him, if only for a moment. Soon enough, however, she forced him into a dialogue, pushing his body away lightly but firmly. “We have to discuss our plan.”

“Your plan, you mean?”

She winked at him. “I think we should wait a few months before we make our next move. You need to ingratiate yourself with him. A few successful missions should suffice, and I know you’re more than capable of that.”

“How’re we dealing with the Toad?” She could see the blood-lust in his eyes; he wanted, quite badly, to be the one to tear him apart.

“Leave that to me. It can’t happen like today. He needs to die in the field.”

Victor titled his head in puzzlement. “Why can’t I do it?”

“It’s not necessary, and we can’t risk Erik becoming anymore suspicious than he already is. I can arrange for one of the X-Men to deal with him.”

He nodded at that, hesitantly. He decided to change the subject rather than disagree with her. “Have you figured out who’s going to replace him yet?”

Raven looked away for a second, as she lingered on a visual image of her answer. “Yes. Betsy Braddock. She’s a good fighter, a solid career behind her but she’s new to the Brotherhood. Most importantly, I’ve _acquired_ her loyalty.”

He let out a hearty chuckle. “The same way you’ve acquired mine? What’s she into, Tom Cruise?”

Raven smiled widely. “You’ll find most women are a far more subtle than that.” He agreed, silently, before removing his jacket and pushing her onto the bed. He removed his clothing excitedly and, when he turned back to her he, instead, found Cindy Crawford sprawled out and stark naked. She had an eye brow raised, seductively, and her hands covering her privates in a feigned effort to preserve her modesty.

…

“Excellent, you two!” Logan had become very loud and animated over the duration of Charlotte and Billy’s stint in the Danger Room. It had the girl blushing by the time she was out of the simulation, being cheered by the other students. Chief amongst them, John, back from the infirmary, was positively beaming.

“Great job!”

She hugged him, instinctively, and he used their brief closeness to communicate a message to her psychically. She nodded once their embrace had ended and quickly busied herself by talking to Lucy, who was bubbling with admiration.

“Class dismissed.” Logan was glad to end things on a high note.

Jessica was the first to leave, all but storming off. Sofia chased after her, hopelessly. Billy wandered off and up to his room, as he was wont to do. Charlotte, James, John and Lucy left as an awkward foursome chattering away as they went.

“Hey, wait up!” Jessica tended to walk very briskly and Sofia couldn’t do much other than jog towards the gym, which was where she assumed the other girl was going. By the time she got there, Jessica was pummelling the punching bag with flurries of jabs, kicks and knee strikes.

Sofia struggled to keep from wincing at every blow. “Hey, I’m sorry if I wasn’t a good partner earlier, I’m sure you’d have done better with someone else.”

The blonde girl resisted the urge to dote on her, which was what she knew Sofia was secretly demanding her to do. “You’re right, literally anyone else would’ve made a better partner.”

Hurt, but reserved, Sofia responded croakily. “Right. Okay, then.” She followed it up with a slightly louder statement once she realised Jessica had nothing more to say, hoping she just hadn’t heard her over the sound of constant striking. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

At that, Jessica threw a final wallop that send the punching backwards and upwards before plummeting downwards, the chain holding it up clattering violently. “You are fucking infuriating, you know that?” Her tone was jocular.

Sofia laughed nervously. “I don’t understand.”

After a sigh of frustration, Jessica locked eyes with the black-haired girl. “If I kissed you or something, would you agree to _actually_ leave me alone?”

Sofia’s eyes darted away and her head fell to obscure the redness, no doubt, covering her cheeks. She managed to maintain a sense of wit, however. “That seems a little counter-intuitive.”

A response came after some genuine laughter, shared equally between them. “I don’t know what else you’ll settle for.” She forced Sofia to meet her gaze by cupping her chin. She needed this to sink in. “I’m sure you’re a great person but I don’t need a friend, and I, _sure as hell_ , don’t need a girlfriend.”

Sofia choked a little at that but managed to form a cogent reply without bursting into tears, which she was proud of herself for. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I wanted you to just think I was a bitch and get over me, by yourself. I don’t really understand why you’ve been so persistent.”  
“I just… I’ve never actually met another girl like me before.”

Out of pity, Jessica tried to lighten the mood. “I’m nothing like you.” She said it with mock disdain.

“You know what I mean.”

…

The news of the Blob’s death had, by now, filtered through to the X-Men. Logan knew, by instinct, that it had something to do with Mystique’s designs on leadership but he kept his thoughts to himself. It made him feel guilty, in a way. He tried to fool himself into believing that Raven had done something to earn this small feat of loyalty. Instead, he knew deep down that is was all to do with what she’d said about Jean: _“I’m just a phone call away.”_

He was shaken from his reflections by Laurie Collins. “I’ve never been to the Savage Land before, what’s it like?” Her voice, airy and innocent-sounding, was a welcome distraction. He looked about to see if anyone else was going to answer her, only to realise that none of the others had ever been, either; Alex Summers, Theresa Cassidy, Jubilation Lee, none of them had ever seen the Savage Land.

“Have you ever seen ‘Journey to the Centre of the Earth’?” She shook her head. “Um, okay. Well, then, imagine ‘The Jungle Book’ meets ‘Jurassic Park’.” He chuckled at the look of wonder she returned.

Alex shot him a look which clearly indicated his disapproval of Logan treating her like a kid. Laurie didn’t seem to mind, however, so that was all that mattered to him. The gruffer side of his personality always tended to fall away whenever he was around Wallflower; it was, almost entirely, down to her powers keeping him in a pleasant mood.

The jet touched down quietly enough and they had some time to marvel at the untouched beauty of the Savage Land; lush and green, with an ever-present melodic chirping from unseen creatures. Laurie was the first to speak up, but she represented the opinions of most of her comrades. “Woah!”

Logan smirked. “It’s got a certain something to it, I’ll give you that.” He turned to the other teenager in the group. “Okay, Jubilee, do your thing.”

The short-haired girl nodded determinedly. “Here goes…” She conjured up a mighty display far above their heads. Red, green and blue fireworks exploded in the air, very loud and very bright, they were visible even in the midday sky.

Banshee asked a question that seemed obvious to most of them. “How do we know this’ll only attract Sauron and no one else?”

Logan hadn’t thought to give them much more than the basic information. As far as he was concerned, they only needed to do what he said, and they’d be fine. Still, he couldn’t leave an honest question open. “We don’t, but it’s unlikely anyone else will come. Sauron’s one of the few members of his species left and the others have become reclusive and wary. Obviously it might attract somethings looking for food but they’ll probably not arrive until we’ve left.”

“Probably.” Summers repeated the word back to him, his tone wasn’t particularly nervous but he definitely didn’t sound sure.

As if on cue, however, a shriek tore through the sky and Sauron, the mutant vampire, appeared above them. He kept himself stationary for a moment, violently smacking his enormous wings together and apart, as he surveyed his prey. He wasn’t given an option, however, as Wolverine immediately launched the team into the next phase of the plan.

“Banshee, go!” On his command, she flew up to meet the monster. He fell for it, immediately, swooping after her. She knew what she had to do, and she executed her part of the plan flawlessly. She weaved in and out for a while to keep him dumb to her motivation before gliding towards the treeline.

Once he saw the opportunity, Alex didn’t need Logan to call him to action. He sent a massive wave of energy towards the green monster. It struck him and, according to plan, he barrelled into a tree and went crashing to the ground.

“Okay, Wallflower, show us your stuff!” Laurie had to concentrate very hard to get it done but, within seconds, and before Sauron could even get to his feet, he found his senses bombarded by a virulent stench. It stung his eyes, forcing him to blink constantly and try, viciously, to rub at them with his talons.

He stumbled towards the group, sneezing uncontrollably as he went. Banshee hovered over him but he ignored her. As soon as he’d been struck by the concussive wave he knew, or _thought_ , he’d scored the jackpot; Alex Summers was teeming with life-energy and he’d do anything to drain him dry.

They let him move on, for a while, as they got themselves into position. Logan ran around him, to come up from behind, Wallflower got herself well clear, Jubilee ran back into the ship to grab the equipment they needed and Alex stayed right where he was, taunting his nemesis. “Come on you big ugly bird, take a bite!”

Laurie allowed the aroma she’d created to die down just as Sauron was closing in on his prey. As soon as she did, Alex released an energy blast that sent him rushing through the air only to be met by a rib-cracking spinning heel kick from Logan. Feeling boxed in, he looked to the sky for an escape route. Instead, he faced the sight of Banshee hovering overhead.

He tried to lash out at Wolverine with his talons but Logan proved to be a far superior athlete, ducking and dodging and landing nasty strikes of his own. His claws were sheathed but he could still do considerable damage.

The final word came from Alex. “Surrender!” His voice was stern and authoritative but, unlike the gruffness of Logan’s, it didn’t engender any increased aggression. Sauron let out a few lazy strikes, hitting nothing but air, but gave up soon enough, sinking to his knees.

Just in time, Jubilee rushed over with the equipment and Banshee swept down to help put it to use. Logan applied the blindfold, Alex strapped the chains to his feet and Banshee cuffed his wrists. They brought the prisoner aboard and had the jet about a hundred metres up, just in time to see a mean-looking T-Rex arrive on the scene.

…

Lucy was sat by the fire, cross-legged. She sometimes just liked to watch the random flickering of the flames. If she let herself get lost in the moment, they would sing to her and she would enter a world of hellish bliss; a word of demons and monsters and psychedelic movement, like the dreams she’d had since she was a child, only more vivid and more tangible.

She wasn’t allowed to get lost, however, because James had decided he wanted to talk to her. She was a little frustrated but forgave him immediately; she always enjoyed whatever little attention the other students gave her. She put on a nice smile and turned to him, as he sat down beside her.

“You did well today, considering you didn’t use your powers.” James’ tone was friendly enough but she could tell that he was fishing for information.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t really know how to use by powers. It just happens, sometimes, that I change shape. I’m not sure how it works, Callisto never really told me though I think she knew.”

“That’s strange.”

Lucy shrugged. “I guess it is, but I don’t like to dwell on it. I’m just happy to be here.”

“Do you get homesick?”

Lucy’s smile waivered at that question. “Sometimes. What about you?”

James considered the question, as if he didn’t quite know. “Not really. I miss my brothers’ company but I never feel like I want to go back home. My nightmares kept me awake so often. It’s been amazing to finally get eight hours of sleep, night after night.”

“What are nightmares like?”

“How do you mean?” James looked puzzled.

“I’ve heard about them but I’ve never had one.”

“Oh. Okay, well… They’re just really bad dreams; they can be scary, even in a goofy way, like with monsters and giant spiders and stuff, or they can be more realistic, like they can reflect fears in your own life. Mine are, kind of a mixture of the two. It’s a little hard to explain.”

Lucy contemplated his words. “Hm. That’s odd.”

Out in the courtyard, John and Charlotte were, similarly sat together cross-legged. John tried to put his arm around her but Charlotte shrugged him off. He didn’t blame her for that. “So, hey, I just wanted a chance for us to talk in private.”

She was cautiously optimistic. “What about?”

He played with his hands as he talked. “About… your feelings… and my feelings… and Maria and stuff.”  
“Stuff?” She smiled and laughed, trying to get him to ease up.

He tried to share in the laughter but it sounded hopelessly forced so he shut himself up. For a few moments, they stared up into the night sky, and he contemplated what she’d said to him that one night; that she sometimes received messages from the stars. He’d been amazed at first but, on reflection, the knowledge only served to make him feel small and his feelings petty.

“I want to show you something. Promise you won’t freak out.”

She looked at him, curiously. “What is it?”

“I feel like you ought to know how I ended up in this thing with Maria. I didn’t even know she was my girlfriend until she started telling everyone she was.”  
“I don’t understand.”

John grimaced. He was very unsure of what he was about to do. “Okay, I’ll show you the memory.” She closed her eyes, receptively. “Don’t freak out.”

“Don’t be silly of course I won’t.” She let his memory come to her, like one of her own. “Gross! What the fuck?!” Her eyes opened up wide and she stormed off. He got up to chase after her but by the time he was on his feet she was already at the door.

She turned to him before rushing off. She was crying and her cheeks were red. “You’re an asshole!”

He let out a long, shaky, sigh and muttered to himself, harshly. “You’re a stupid idiot, Johnny.”

It took a while for him to head back in and up to bed. He hoped James might be a little more sympathetic. They did have something of a rapport.

The other girls, in much higher spirits, had no such trouble getting into their dorm. Getting to _sleep_ was another matter. Their usual banter, which Jessica took no part in, ended abruptly when Maria revealed her intention to sleep somewhere else for the night.

Lucy asked about it, innocently. “Where are you going?”

Maria, as usual, talked between giggling fits. “To spend some time with my boyfriend!”

“But it’s night time.”

“Exactly!” She danced over to the younger girl and gave her a big, obvious, wink before skipping out of the room and down the hallway.

“No, Maria! Come on! Don’t…” Sofia’s sister, evidently, was paying no attention to her. She threw her arms up in frustration and briefly considered getting up to stop her physically before collapsing onto her bed in defeat.

Jessica, who’d kept an eye on the exchange, but not said a word, took the opportunity to get down from her own bunk.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving too!” Sofia’s voice was croaky with tiredness and overuse, as it tended to become after Maria’s nightly scandalous diatribes.

The blonde-haired girl smirked at that, before creeping over to Sofia’s bunk. She stopped just short of clambering in. “Sit up.”

Sofia responded, with a nervous yet bemused half-smile on her face. “What’re you up to?” Her tone was jovial but accusatory. Her question was answered with a kiss; on the mouth, just long enough to be more than a peck. Her cheeks reddened a little but that detail couldn’t be seen in the unlit room. “What was that?”

Jessica left and went back up to her bunk before responding. “A reward… Don’t read too much into it.”

Sofia immediately began reading too much into it.

…

“We didn’t consider the beak.” Alex’s observation was dryly delivered but it elicited guffaws from Laurie and Jubilee nonetheless. Soon enough, however, Banshee arrived with a sheet of fabric. She tore a strip from it and tied it around Sauron’s massive green jaws.

“It’s not going to hold if he decides to flip his shit, but it should keep him from getting nippy.” She looked down at the man. Cuffed and sulking, he appeared to possess barely a hundredth of the power they knew he really did. “Do you know what the professor wants with him?”

Alex shrugged. “No, but I assume he told Logan.”

A casually angry voice came shouting back from another section of the jet. “He didn’t tell me shit!”

Jubilee and Wallflower burst into laughter at that and Banshee pulled Alex to one side. She had to ask him a question but she didn’t want to appear unconfident in front of the girls. “What did you think of my performance? Did I do well?”

He regarded her curiously. “Of course you did. Xavier didn’t put you on the team for no reason. He sees so much of your father in you. We all do.”

She smiled at that but couldn’t get herself to quite believe it. “It’s just that I know I’m second-in-line to run the X-Men… and, obviously, Logan’s not going anywhere soon, but it still, kind of, freaks me out.”

“Don’t worry about it.” His tone communicated the notion that he knew perfectly well what he talking about. Nevertheless, he could sense her hesitation to accept his advice. “I’ll put it this way, if Logan disappeared tomorrow and you were made team leader, you’d still have, like, a whole year’s worth of more experience than my brother did when Xavier made him leader.”

That line of reasoning was quite convincing and he saw acceptance start to creep over her. He went in for a slam dunk.

“In fact, Scott had, literally, _no_ experience of leadership and the professor still says he’s the best we’ve ever had.” 

“Tough company.” Banshee had lightened up, considerably. Naturally, she tried to pull the conversation away from discussion of her qualifications as a leader, lest her newly-found confidence be knocked right out of her. “So, why aren’t you on the team full-time?”

Alex appeared to contemplate the question for a while, titling his head away. “It’s complicated.”

That wasn’t the kind of answer she’d hoped for, but she let it go out of respect for the man.

…

Billy was used to sleeping alone. A small part of him kept hoping someone would come to check on him after classes, when he always shot right back up to his dorm, but he realised that it was mostly his fault for being so reclusive.

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Charlotte was standing halfway through the doorway. He could tell she’d been crying, which made him nervous; he found it exceptionally difficult to deal with people when they were upset.

His response was croaked out, sheepishly, from behind his book, the one he’d been reading and rereading for comfort ever since he’d got to the mansion. “Sure.”  
She’d brought her pyjamas with her and staked a temporary claim on the bed at the opposite side of the room from him. She unbuttoned her shirt. “Can you turn away, please?”

Billy hadn’t been looking, and he resented the implication that he had. Still, his shyness refused to allow him to give voice to his feelings. “Yep.” He turned, purposefully and expressively, onto his side, facing away from her.

After a minute or so of changing her clothes, sobbing quietly and snorting shakily through her runny nose, she clambered into the unfamiliar bed. “Okay, you can turn back now.”

He didn’t. Instead, he stayed in his position, pretending that he found it just as comfortable as he’d found his previous position.

“It must be cool to be able to read in the dark.” Her tone was still shaky, but with a hint of joviality.

The blue boy shrugged and continued reading.

She tried to get some sleep. She knew she was running the risk of nightmares without John being around but she couldn’t bare thinking of sleeping in his room tonight; the thought made her skin crawl.

She shut her eyes and tried to conjure up some friendly images. They helped get her off on the right track and, before she knew it, she was a warrior princess riding her horse through a fairy-tale forest. It was a dream from her childhood, but one she retreated to often enough. She didn’t know where she was going or where she’d come from but it was so wondrous and peaceful that she didn’t care to know.

The peace didn’t last for long, however. Her surroundings began to fade away, into the ether, and the sky turned a harsh purple hue. Her clothes were stripped away and, soon enough, her horse vanished. Instead of falling to the ground, however, she stayed suspended in the air.

A familiar voice called to her. It seemed to be coming from all around her, ominous and echoing. “Darling child, you must listen to me. You are danger, as are your friends.” She knew the woman’s voice well; she heard it occasionally when she was star-gazing. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard it in a dream.

Charlotte was too exhausted to deal with the woman’s proclamations of impending doom. Instead, she decided that she’d like to have a nice chat with her. “What’s your name? You’ve never told me.”

“I am Lilandra… and you are in danger. You need to be prepared for what is coming.”

“Blah, blah, blah. I get it.” She considered what other questions she should ask, starting with the most obvious. “Are you an alien?”

“Yes, I am… but that is not important. You must ready yourself. All that you hold dear will soon threatened.”

“Boring!” She’d had to put up with similarly vague proclamations from this woman her whole life. For the first few years, she’d been terrified by them. Now, however, they were simply annoying. “What do you look like?”

The voice became angry. “You are not _listening_ to me, child! You must!” The purple sky began to turn pitch black and awful whispers filled the air.

“Oh, no, please! Don’t!” Charlotte’s pleading fell on deaf ears as the voice became silent and the nightmare began to take over. Hundreds of hideous yellow eyes flashed around her, far away and yet far too close.

From the dark, new voices emerged. They were terrible and terrified; shrieking and screaming in pain and violent desperation. They invaded her mind and she forced herself to wake up. Awake, she was breathing rapidly, panting and coughing. To her relief, she didn’t wake Billy up.

She considered slinking back into John’s dorm. If she was quiet about it, and she got up early in the morning, he wouldn’t even realise and he’d still know she was mad at him. She thought better of it, though. She wasn’t just mad at him, she was disgusted and still a little heartbroken. She couldn’t stomach being around him. Instead, she decided she’d just have to deal with getting very little sleep for the foreseeable future.

Before Maria had arrived, the boys had some time to talk, much to John’s relief. He imagined James would be sympathetic or, at least, he hoped so.  
“Hey, man, can I ask you a question?”

James was always happy to chat. “Sure, what is it?”

“If you wanted to break up with a girl, how would you go about doing so?”

James raised an eyebrow at the question. “If you’re talking about Maria, the answer is that I wouldn’t. She’s hot.”

“I agree but it’s just that…”

“You like Charlotte.”

“Yeah… and I think I’ve screwed my chances up with her.”

“Just dump Maria, then. There’s no particular way you need to do it. If you want to get with Charlotte then, and this just a hunch, I’d say being single is a prerequisite for that.”

“It’s not that simple. I think that even if I did, Charlotte still wouldn’t be interested.”

James’ brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you figure that? She obviously into you, man. Everyone can see that.”  
“Not anymore.”

“Explain.” James was curious now.

“I showed her something. A memory. Look, it’s probably better if I just show you. Fair warning, though, it’s kind of gross, and it freaked Charlotte out when I showed her.”

“I’ve got a strong stomach.” James was on the verge of cracking up. He closed his eyes, as difficult as it was to contain himself. “Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me, brother!”

John sent the memory over.

“I knew it! My man!” James jumped out his bed and rushed over to his friend, shaking his hand comically. It took a few seconds for him to fully comprehend things, however, as his tone changed after a while to one of ridicule. “Wait, you showed this to Charlotte? Dude, you’re fucking clueless!”

John accepted the criticism fairly. “I know. I just, thought, maybe she’d see that Maria, kind of, manipulated me into being her boyfriend.”

James’ grin just became wider and wider. “You expected her to sit comfortably through scenes of you getting your dick sucked?!”

“Dude! Can you, maybe, not shout about that stuff?”

James laughed but acquiesced. “Alright, man, sorry. You’re just cracking me up, is all.” 

“I just don’t know how to deal with this situation.” John was becoming quite despondent.

“Well, about Charlotte, I haven’t got a clue. I think you’ve royally fucked that up. But, about Maria, why don’t you just read her mind, figure out what her deal is?”

John considered that for a moment, as if a lightbulb had just flashed on in his mind, before, ultimately, scoffing at the idea. “That seems unethical.”

“Well, look at it this way, dude; if you really think she’s manipulating you then reading her mind is, basically, like self-defence.”  
John fobbed him. “No. I think I’ll just have to figure this all out on my own.”

James threw his hands up in mock surrender, as if he was somehow particularly invested in the issue at hand. “Alright, but you can’t say I didn’t try to help.”

They settled down into their beds and John expected he’d take a few hours trying to come up with a brilliant plan to let Maria down gently and win Charlotte back. Instead, this crucial planning time was almost immediately interrupted by their guest.

He leapt to his feet, assuming he knew what Maria’s arrival must have meant. “What’s up, is Charlotte having nightmares?” He felt a pang of guilt at the fact that that was precisely what he hoped; that he could swoop in as the girl’s valiant saviour.

“What, Charlotte? No. She’s not bunking with us. I assumed she was here.”

John heart sank a little. “No. She’s a little upset with me. I thought she’d decided to go back to your dorm.”

“There’s no room in our dorm – and anyway, whatever, who cares? I just came to spend some time with you.” She inched closer towards him and, suddenly aware he was wearing nothing more than his boxer shorts, he started to back away from her.

“It’s night time, Maria.”

He could swear he saw a tinkle in her eye as she closed the distance between them, effortlessly, as if she was gliding through the air. “I know. That’s exactly why I’m here.” She pulled at the waistband of his boxers. He jerked backwards immediately.

He could feel himself beginning to swell, so his mind raced for an excuse or distraction. “Maria, please! James is here.”

At that, the other boy’s muffled sleepy voice called out from the other side of the room. “Don’t mind me!”

With that, John knew there was only one thing for it. He pulled Maria down to sit with him on the edge of his bed. She became excited, at first, thinking she was getting what she wanted. Instead, he held her arms tight and locked eyes with her, concentrating as hard as he could.

“Ooh, are you reading my mind?” With that, she tried to flood her mind with rude images; photos that she’d taken of her body, times she’d pleased herself, times she’d pleased other boys, and, at the forefront, the time she’d pleased him.

He severed the connection as soon as she did so but it didn’t matter; he’d already dug deep and copied several memories his sub-conscious mind had guided him towards. It was an exhausting experience and he keeled over, wheezing and panting.

She rubbed his back and doted on him. “There, there.” He looked up into her eyes, this time with a look of deep sympathy. “What did you see?” She was asking for confirmation, as she imagined she knew exactly what he’d gone looking for; an explanation for her behaviour.

“You had a boyfriend when you were fourteen. He… took your virginity… and he dumped you the next day.”

She smiled and laughed. “Yeah, he was a prick. My dad threatened to cut his balls off when he found out.”

He didn’t understand how she could smile, let alone laugh. “It was terrible. He really hurt you.”

She hugged him. “Don’t be sad for me. It’s just life. Yeah, it sucked, but I got over it.”

“How?”  
Her smile became wider at that. “I decided to use the experience, to change how I approached boys, to make sure I never got hurt again. I’ve had a few boyfriends since him and, with each one, everything was on my own terms. I had fun, _a lot_ of sex and never got too attached.”

“I’d rather not be one of those guys.” He hoped, to hell, she’d accept the statement because, to his infinite embarrassment, he still had an erection.  
Maria didn’t cry or play dumb, to her credit. “Why not? I _do_ like you, truly.”

He sighed. “I’m a virgin.”

“Oh.” A silent beat passed between them. "I just assumed, you know, because you’re older than me, that you’d have done stuff before... Are you waiting for someone special?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Though, it seems a long way off at this point.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We observe Mystique's past, of love affairs and of political intrigue, and begin to understand just how intertwined those subjects are, in accordance with her mutant nature.
> 
> Content warning: This chapter contains mild violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

Logan always got nervous whenever the professor invited him to his office. He’d had a lot of bosses throughout his long life, most of them lasted barely any time at all, but he’d never had one whose opinions actually meant anything to him until he’d Xavier. “What’s up?”

The professor looked gaunt and ghostly. “Ah, yes, Wolverine, come in.” He didn’t look up as he spoke, his face looking downward and downcast.  
He was in, so he just shuffled closer to the desk. “Did Sauron give you the information you were searching for?”

Charles seemed startled by the question. “What? Oh, yes – no, the whole endeavour proved fruitless I’m afraid – now, what can I do for you?”  
Logan regarded the old man warily. “ _You_ called me in, boss.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right.” He looked ill. He held his head in his hand for a few seconds before continuing. “I’m taking you off the team.”  
He’d put it nonchalantly but it still hit Logan like a tonne of bricks. “Uh… what?”

“I need you here, by my side. I want you to take up the groundskeeper role full-time… and to go on assignments for me, from time to time.”

Logan was just about to protest, when he remembered what Mystique had told him. He could be Xavier’s right-hand man. It was exactly what she’d wanted and it’d put him in the best position to convince the Professor of the benefits of an alliance once she took over the Brotherhood.

This was causing him some considerable internal strife, as he wondered just where his loyalties laid. Before he could come to a reasoned decision, however, his mouth, impulsively, decided for him. “I could do that.”

“Good. That’s good.” Finally, the professor looked up to meet Logan’s eyes; the old man looked desperately tired.

Logan needed air. He excused himself and, then, cross the courtyard to his shack. He took his time; using the autumn air to clear his head. He was worried for the professor’s health, he was also worried for the team he’d now left. Most of all, he was worried about what his continuing loyalty to Mystique meant.

As if the universe knew just what he’d been thinking, he was made to confront this worry. He opened his shack to find Raven, standing by his couch, blue and naked. “Hey, handsome.” Her grin was cute, he had to admit.

“Mind telling me what a prominent member of the Brotherhood is doing on Charles Xavier’s property?” He walked up to her and, instantly regretted it, his stature left his eye-line directly level with her breasts.

“Just wanted to check in.”

“Put some clothes on.”

“If you insist.” In the blink of an eye, Mystique’s blue body was covered by her familiar white costume.

“You really shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet I am, and you’re letting me.”

He barked at her. “And I don’t know why!” He paced up and down the confines of the outhouse.

“Oh, I think you do.” She was still wearing a wide dimpled grin. “What I said about Jean intrigued you. You’re wondering if it would work for you. Wondering if it would _help_ you.”

He sighed, resentfully. “You’re right. Apart of me wants to know what’d be like, if I can buy into the illusion.”  
“What’s the harm in finding out?”

Logan shook his head. “It feels disrespectful to her. What would she think of me?” He looked out of the window, over the courtyard to the beautiful marble plinth near the Mansion’s main exit; a monument to the mind, body and soul of the most beautiful woman who ever lived.

“I wouldn’t hold it against you. You should do whatever you need to, in order to heal.” Jean’s voice startled him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He turned around and there she was; standing, smiling, with her hand on her hip.

“Jeanie?” For the briefest moment, he believed it was her, utterly and completely. She tried to respond but he turned away, burying his head in his hands. His voice became muffled and emotional. “No, I can’t do this. I’m a wreck. Just leave, Mystique. Leave _now_!”

She didn’t leave. Instead, she tried to comfort him, holding his waist and whispering into his ear. “I’m here for you, Logan. I always have been.”

He refused to cry. He forced himself to man up, pushed her away and stood up straight. He waivered for a moment, unsure of his next move. He knew that he had to confront his feelings, but _really_ didn’t want to. “I need to get over you.”

She grabbed his jaw and forced his face up to meet her gaze. “What you need is what you _want_. Don’t you want me, haven’t you _always_ wanted me?”

He stared into her bright green eyes; they were a perfect match. “I have.” His admission came with a sigh of resignation. She closed the distance and brought him in for a long, bitter, wonderful, hateful kiss of shame and desire. That was it; the end of his resistance. He ran one of his hands through her hair and, with the other, he grabbed at her shirt. He could feel her body beneath it. The illusion was crushingly real.

She struggled with his belt, forcing him to retreat in desperate lust. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze as he pulled it away, effortlessly. He kept his eyes down, as if he needed to concentrate on all the intricacies of the three buttons on his jeans. Once he was done, he cast a fleeting glance her away. She was naked. Her clothes weren’t strewn about the shack, rather they had simply vanished.

That was one detail that clawed at his mind for recognition. It was a small part of him, blocked out by the sheer strength of his animal desire, begging him to reconsider. Instead, his instincts and his passions led the way. Mystique indulged him, skilfully; whispering sweet nothings into his ears, professions of love rather than the vulgar come-ons that might’ve worked in any other situation.

She helped him remove his remaining items of clothing, being purposefully slow about it. His shaky hands overtook hers, within a split-second, as she unbuttoned his shirt. After that, he threw her onto the couch, it was old and uncomfortable but he hardly cared. His mind was far too caught up in knowing and not knowing who the woman was.

His hands were gentle, caressing and stroking her, but his hips were merciless. He thrust into her, ferocious and unceasing as if he wanted it to be over as soon as possible; he knew his animal side demanded satisfaction but his rational mind held onto the truth.

Raven’s moans and gasps were well-acted and she tried to make eye contact with Logan as many times as possible, which he made difficult by fixating on her groin, where everything seemed as real as it could. As he came to his climax, she blocked this sight out. She arched herself up and pressed her hand to his chest. It caught his attention and he looked up at her, meeting her gaze, just as he found release. It was more than a physical release; it was the release of years of bitterness and grief, and an even older feeling of pent-up envy and desire.

He pulled himself out and collapsed one the other side of the couch, as Jean’s sweaty pink flesh was blotted out by blue. To complement the reversion to her natural skin colour, Raven’s body language changed just as rapidly. Jean had been shaking and quivering, her head rolled deep into the back of the couch cushion. Raven, on the other hand, crossed one leg over the other and held her back up straight.

Logan’s voice, now that he’d got it back, was quiet and vulnerable. “Could you not stay as Jean for a while?”

She gave him a mocking smile. “No, I think my work here is done. If you want to see more of her, well, it’s like I said; I’m just a phone call away.” After that, she got up to leave. He threw an arm up to stop her, hopelessly.

“Just like that, you’re gonna’ leave?”

She shrugged, quizzically. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because… We just…”

“It was nothing, Logan. It’s as simple as a chat over coffee. Simpler, even.” It was a lie, but not too far from the truth.

…

Charlotte’s efforts, both to avoid having to talk to John but also to avoid the awkward silences that would bring with it if they wound up in the same together, had taken her to the library. She had a few books out that she was pretending to scan to prep for a few her classes but, mostly, she was just waiting for Sofia to get done hovering around the bookcases and sit down.

Once she had, Charlotte immediately struck up a conversation. “Hey, Sofia, I feel like we’ve haven’t really spoken much since I was moved out of the girls’ room.” Her tone was peculiar, and a tad forced, as she tried to pretend she hadn’t been dying to talk to someone for hours.

Sofia had to tear her eyes away from the book she’d become engrossed in as soon as she’d opened it. Despite Sofia’s usual smiley and polite demeanour, Charlotte could tell she was disappointed not to have time to read free of distraction. She felt a little guilty about that, but her desperation for human interaction trumped all other concerns. “That’s true. How’ve you been?”

“Great.” Charlotte answer took a lot of work to sound even halfway natural. “So, I’ve been curious about you and Jessica. You always spent some much time around her. Is there something going on between you two?” As much as a relief as it was to quickly push the focus of the conversation away from herself and onto the other girl, she could tell by Sofia’s faltering smile and lack of response that she made her uncomfortable. “It’s not that I’m judging, or anything, I super chill with you being gay.”

Sofia winced at that last word. “I’m not… it’s just… we’re… it’s complicated.”

Charlotte offered her an encouraging smile. “I get it.”

Sofia regarded her friend very carefully, trying to look through her emerald eyes for the truth. “Is it really okay with you? If I’m… you know…” Her expression was slightly pained.

“Totally.” She squeezed her friend’s hand, comfortingly, as if to lend proof to her words.

Relief rolled over Sofia’s upper body. Charlotte saw it first in her yellowy brown eyes; their sharpness and focus faded somewhat, just before her shoulders fell and her back began to shrink. She let herself flop into the backrest of her chair. “Okay, I guess I can tell you, then.”

Charlotte’s face lit up at that and her lips turned up into a big wide smile. “Dish!” Her response came with a hefty splash of giddiness.

“Well, it’s like this…” she sighed “… I really like her, and it’s stupid since I barely know her but…” she needed a nod from Charlotte before she continued. “She told me to stop following her around, which is obviously not good, but, then, last night she kissed me.”

“She kissed you?!” Charlotte could barely contain herself.

Sofia’s cheeks went red and she turned away. “It’s nothing, or I don’t know.”

Charlotte’s laughter faded and her brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t follow. You don’t know what?”

Sofia ran a hand through her hair in frustration, dragging the lone few tresses beside her right eye, which tended to dangle down, over her head. “I don’t know… if she likes me; if she still wants me to keep my distance; if she’ll ever open up to me… if she’ll kiss me again tonight.” She exhaled deeply after that last remark, holding her hands behind her neck.

“Well, that sucks.” Charlotte cushioned her reply with a light chuckle and a reassuring smile.

“Yeah.”

…

“Okay, guys, we’ve dealt with this bozo dozens of times before, just remember the key points; spread out, keep your distance, wait for an opening and, when you’ve got one, strike hard and fast.” Banshee hoped to hell the girls couldn’t pick up on the trepidation in her voice. This was it; her first mission as leader, and she didn’t even have Alex for guidance.

“We hear you, boss.” Northstar’s pronouncement was as much for the girls’ benefit as Banshee’s, they didn’t seem entirely convinced by their new leader’s pep talk. Before too long, however, he was dragged away from them, as Banshee wished to converse privately.

“Do you know how long Alpha Flight’s lending you out for?” Jean-Paul’s uniform stood out in contrast to typical X-Men black and yellow; it was white and red with a big bright half of a maple leaf emblazoned on the chest. Theresa had to admit he had a great body and, even though she knew it was just as off-limits to her teammates as it was to her, Jubilee’s shameless fawning over him had induced just a little bit of green.

“It’s not a loan, as such. I’m the cause of some _tension_ back home. As things stand, this is really more of transfer. Has Xavier not filled you in? This’s been in the works for months. I think, officially, I’m an attaché or something like that.”

She shook her head, softly. “No, the professor didn’t mention. To be honest, though, he seemed a little preoccupied when we last spoke. He must be under a lot stress.” Truth be told, he hadn’t managed to instil in her much confidence. She’d have imagined being told by the great and powerful Charles Xavier that he wanted you to become the field leader of his X-Men would be inspiring. In reality, she was informed of her promotion by a pitiably frail old man with a severe migraine.  
The jet ride over to the capital was fairly short, so they didn’t much more time to talk. The jet’s speaker system was accessed by Iron Man upon their arrival. They could see him hovering over the small anti-mutant protest, readying himself against Pyro. “You’re just in time. I’ll try to move these people to safety, as best I can, and you guys need to deal with this freak. I take it he’s one of yours?” The question was purely rhetorical.

The rescue effort commenced as soon as the X-Men began filing off the jet; they enjoyed Pyro’s full attention, and the protesters became little more than background noise. Banshee could feel his gaze, it got under her skin and made her sick and nervous. Despite his thick dark goggles, she knew exactly where his eyes were looking from the tilt of his head and the flashes of his tongue. She was quite sure he’d gone insane a long time ago, or else he was very good at pretending he had.  
She tried to calm herself; she closed her eyes, let the stillness fall over her and only opened them again once she had a clear plan in mind. “Okay, everyone, let’s spread out and surround him. Northstar you can rush straight past him. Jubilee, you take the right. Wallflower, you take the left.”

With that, the girls began to jog to their positions and Northstar zoomed past him, glancing him with a shoulder tackle for good measure. The distraction worked well enough to allow them all to get to their bases, but it also served to wind the maniac up. He was regarded by many as the Brotherhood’s loosest cannon, a reputation he’d earned a hundred times over.

He was fenced in and growing more agitated by the microsecond. They couldn’t let him make the first move, so Banshee pounced almost immediately. She snapped out an order before taking to the sky. “Jubilee, hit it!” With that, Lee conjured a bombastic light show in his face.

Pyro responded quickly, but sloppily. Unsure of precisely which X-Man to lash out at, he sprayed his flame-throwers in a compromise direction and used his mutant abilities to enlarge it as much as he could. Failing to knock Banshee out of the air in his first move, however, proved his undoing. She let out a ferocious shriek which fanned the flames away from them both.

That was Northstar’s cue. There was no doubt that Pyro could have let off another burst in a matter of moments. A matter of moments, however, was all the speedster needed. With Pyro’s back turned to him, temporarily, Northstar was on him in a flash and tore the canisters from his back.

Pyro snapped around only to leave himself open for an aerial attack. Banshee came swooping down with a savage knee strike to the back of his head. His headgear protected him, somewhat, but it was still enough to knock him loopy. He fumbled through the pockets of his trousers for a lighter but his clumsiness kept him busy for a second or so too long. Banshee kicked at him, crushing his hand and snapping his knee in one smooth motion.

At that, Laurie began to close the distance. Banshee kept him on the defensive and Jubilee send a few more light shows his way, making sure the few strikes he could manage to get off were inaccurate. She had to stop herself from sending him anything too spectacular lest he redirect it.

Northstar, back from locking the canisters up on the jet, came into the fight for the closing sequence. He tore the villain’s headgear off, allowing an almighty Banshee cry to send him to the ground, clutching his ears and seething in pain. Wallflower then, mercifully, sent him to sleep. 

…

Charlotte’s tiredness was becoming comical. She was sat at the table, with her elbows threatening to buckle under the weight of her sagging head. Her wrists were getting pins and needles and her eyelids were halfway over her pupils. That was very fortunate, from John’s point of view, as it meant she was paying very little attention to her surroundings.

He made the most of the opportunity and settled down beside her. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Her response was delayed but light and airy. It convinced him that she must’ve just forgotten the sound of his voice.

“So, I just wanted to apologise for the other night.” He braced himself.

She took a few seconds to cotton on before she blew up. Her tiredness gave way to vicious dismissal. She jumped up and away from her seat. “Apology accepted. Goodbye.” Her words came out like rounds from a Gatling gun.

“No, please, wait.” He went to grab her arm but thought better of it. Perhaps in gratitude, as his hand changed direction and went through his hair, she acquiesced. She slumped back down, regarding him with impatient humour.

“Fine. What’ve you got say for yourself?”

“I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve hurt you and…” He watched her face carefully as he spoke, to pounce upon the first hint of sympathy. “…I hope you can forgive me.”  
She sighed and turned away from him. Now on the back foot, and unwilling to replay the card of righteous indignation, she played with the ends of her sleeves for comfort as she laid her soul bare. “I can – I mean, obvious I can – because it’s not like we were even together and…” No more words came. Her brow furrowed and she became angry with herself, racking her brain for an extra sentence or two.

“But we were getting there, and I screwed things up.”

“No – I mean, yes, you did – but that’s not what I was gonna’ say.”

“You don’t have to say anything… You can show me.”

She closed her eyes, and opened her mind. “Okay.” Her consent was begrudging, but her frustration at not being able to find the right words won out over her broken heart’s desire to keep his prying mind away.

At that, John shut his eyes tight and invaded her mind. Earlier in his years, he might’ve stumbled through her mind or been caught up in various webs of thoughts and emotions. Instead, he honed in on just what he needed to, intuitively, attuning himself to her mind; thinking as she thought, feeling as she felt, and experiencing her memories as if they were his own.

He went to their first encounter. He saw himself walk through the door. Her physical attraction to him was strong but, ultimately, trivial. The more important association was one of peace and calmness, his powers had washed over her, clearing her mind and freeing her from the constant buzz of physic chatter. From then on, her attachment to him had only grown, if only because she so keenly felt his absence.

Against the impulses of his moral compass, he indulged himself and took the opportunity to share his experiences with her, forcing her to sympathise with him. She felt the shame and regret that he had, and experienced his feelings of attraction, she was made to know how highly he thought of her and how little he thought of Maria.

He broke the connection once he was sure she, now, understood. She sighed with exhaustion and transferred the weight of her tiredness onto his chest, burying herself in a hug. He stroked at her hair as she whispered hoarsely into his ear. “I’m so tired, John. I can’t sleep without you around.”

It passed without their attention, that most of their classmates had since left the dining hall. Only Lucy remained, smiling innocently and finishing her food; she’d taken a break from it to observe the pair’s interaction.

Billy had shuffled on back to his room, despite the halfhearted protestations of James and Maria, and Sofia had broken her vow to keep her distance from Jessica and had, instead, rushed off to find her in the gym.

As he followed Maria through to the common room, watching her bouncy stride and swaying hips, James wondered whether or not John _truly_ appreciated what he’d decided to give up. He compared her to John’s preferred choice and still struggled to come up with a satisfactory answer; Maria’s dark bronze skin to Charlotte’s freckled lily-white, Maria’s penchant for plunging necklines and short shorts against Charlotte’s plain jackets and dresses, and a thousand other things. Many of his thoughts ventured into deeply tasteless territory and he had to chastise himself for them.

Maria went over to the stereo as soon as they arrived. She pressed play and waited for a second to get the beat, swaying her shoulders rhythmically and bouncing over to him with her arms outstretched. It was Latin music, he didn’t recognise it but it was easy enough to get a feel for the tune. It was fast and loud and he couldn’t help but get sucked into it.

He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he didn’t have to be as Maria was using it as an opportunity to show-off as much as anything. He held one hand or another and her waist as and when she prompted him to, and she did all the work. She writhed and twisted and spun, keeping her body close to his most of the time and pressing her forehead against his at opportune times.

He kissed her as and when he wanted, but denied her a few times, to keep her on her toes pulling away and encouraging her to pursue him. “So, I take it you’re over him.”

She smiled widely, her pearly white teeth matched the colour of the mischievous gleam in her eye. “Who? John?” She shrugged mockingly. “There wasn’t much to get over.” After that, she went after the buttons on James’ shirt.

“I think we should wait.” His tone was jovial but assertive, and he brushed her hands away.

“Fine, but you should know, I don’t wait for long.”

Far from them, in the gym, instead of passion and flirtation, there was awkwardness and tension. Sofia had become accustomed to such an atmosphere, however, so she elected to play the waiting game.

Jessica was hammering away at the punching bag, letting off jabs left and right, the occasional wallop of a knee strike and then back to jabs. She had a pattern, Sofia had noticed, that appeared random at first but eventually cycled through.

It took a long time but, once she was done, Sofia was allowed to speak. “So, I just wanted to talk, because I’m not really sure where I stand with you.” Her words were eked out torturously.

“Really?” The blonde girl’s response was incredulous. “I told you exactly where you stand with me.” She looked away, pulling her gloves off, making it clear she wasn’t paying much attention.

“Right, yes, you did.” Sofia flashed a sheepish grin. “But then, you kissed me.”

Jessica rolled her eyes emphatically. “People kiss each other all the time.”

For a brief moment, Sofia felt a deep sense of anger and resentment rise in her chest. She also felt as though she might burst into tears. In the end, her rational mind prevailed. “ _You_ don’t. In fact, the only other significant physical contact you’ve had with anyone has been with Logan when you were fighting.”

“Look.” Sofia immediately did as Jessica said, and stared into her eyes. That made the blonde falter, somewhat, and her tone became more conciliatory. “I kissed you because… you remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

At that, Jessica broke eye contact and assumed her body stiffened up. “That’s not important.”

“Don’t be like that.”

Jessica shook her head, but was compelled to give in. “It’s just… a girl… some girl.”

“An ex?”

That question was a little too much, and she threw her arms up in frustration. “Can we not do this, please?”

“Fine.” Her answer was full of anguish.

…

“So… how would you like me to look?” Mystique’s smile was sly and devious.

Betsy answered thoughtfully. “Just, be that guy you were the first time we met.”

In an instant, Mystique’s blue skin gave way to tan, her red hair was clipped short and turned blonde and her voluptuous curves and breasts gave way to a toned male frame. Betsy smiled up at him (her). “I’ve got to admit. You’re really hot.”

Mystique laughed, genuinely and naturally for a change. “Thanks, babe.” She leaned in for a kiss and Betsy was more than receptive, granting her immediate entry. Spurred on, Mystique made her advance; loosening Betsy shirt collar, groping at her breasts and pushing her back onto the motel room bed. Her prey let out moans of excitement and, soon, took over.

Betsy grabbed Mystique’s firm male naked ass and pushed him up against her groin. She could feel the swelling begin almost immediately and beamed as Mystique got to work, frantically trying to remove Betsy’s pants. It was tougher than she’d have expected, with Betsy doing little to help and just laughing heartily. Once they were off, however, and strewn across the floor, Betsy’s laughter was soon replaced with soft moaning as Mystique buried her head between her thighs. “Oh god, yes!”  
After taking her halfway to climax, Mystique withdrew her mouth and moved upwards. She peppered Betsy’s stomach with kisses as she pushed her shirt up. In response to her lover’s desperate clawing, Mystique pushed into her. It was a rare and exhilarating experience for Raven, and one she hoped would become more common; the act of penetration suited her need to dominate. It was a wonderful change of pace, as well.

She started out slowly, make Betsy beg her to continue after every thrust. “Don’t stop, please.” Her words came out shakily, in between gasps. “Uh huh. Yeah.” She soon took to scratching at his back to enforce her demands. Mystique relished the pain, but followed Betsy’s advice nevertheless, upping the tempo and kissing her neck. Her physiology allowed her to keep going for as long as she needed to and she wouldn’t even consider finishing until she’d brought her partner to orgasm several times.

The first came with screams of pleasure, the second came with violently bucking hips and the third came with tears. Mystique timed her release for the third before slumping to her side. As she did so, she naturally shifted her shape. It came as something of a shock; she reverted to an old image, one she used in her younger, more insecure days. It was how she’d imagined she might’ve looked as a human; short black hair, pale skin and a skinny frame.

Betsy seemed to understand, and took no time in warming to the new look. She stroked her arm, lazily, and pressed her forehead into hers. “I needed that, thank you.”

Mystique smiled in response but, instead of mischief or playful deceit, it expressed genuine affection. “Me too.”

“So, are we _together_ , now, or something?”

“Do you want us to be?” Mystique was too smart to lay all her cards on the table, despite how comfortable she might feel.  
“Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, I don’t want anything serious, but I really want to keep doing this.”

Raven laughed at that, softly and happily. “You mean, meeting up in seedy motels for sex and political intrigue.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Betsy returned the laughter and they began to kiss each other, this time substituting passion for love, or something close to it.  
Soon enough, however, reality forced them to disentangle and partake in an altogether more sombre and serious discussion. It began with an innocent question from Betsy, asked in a light and sincere tone, which nonetheless robbed Raven of her smile. “Have you figured out how to get rid of Toad?”

The shapeshifter, now blue once again, propped herself up with her elbows and looked forward, at the stained yellow motel room wall. “Yes.” She sighed. “It’ll take a few days, I need to get the timing right, but it should it work.”

Her psychic lover reassured her with a peck on the shoulder. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I’ve been talking to him; riling him up, goading him. He’s no dunce, but he’s fairly easy to manipulate. Once things reach boiling point, I’ll let a few details slip that he won’t be able to resist acting upon. Once that happens he’ll either be killed by Wolverine or expelled from the Brotherhood upon his return.”

“And what exactly is it he’ll be _acting upon_?” Betsy regarded Raven’s face carefully, knowing that the answer could reveal a lot about their relationship.

“That, my dear, is a secret.” Mystique’s tone was playful and followed up by a round of kisses. Betsy allowed herself to be distracted but still felt a small pang of hurt at the fact that Raven didn’t fully trust her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan's relationship with Mystique is changed for ever as we witness the curtain call for his extended love affair with a woman from beyond the grave.
> 
> Our heroes-in-training must, also, deal with the complicated realities of mutant relationships.

“Do you still remember our first time?” Jean’s voice was soothing, it offered much needed relief after a day of hard work. The fact that Mystique had stepped foot on the Mansion’s grounds for the first time in almost a decade didn’t even occur to him because, for Logan, the illusion had only grown stronger since. It was the greatest sensation in the world, to have Jean back, and, also, the worst sensation in the world to remember, the morning after, that he really didn’t.

So long as that red-haired beauty, eternally youthful, was in his line of sight, he chose to believe it was really her, despite a thousand things screaming out at him; she was too devoted, too eager, and too servile. It sickened him to consider such things, however, so he simply elected not to.

He didn’t answer her because, subconsciously, he knew that admitting that he did, would also mean acknowledging what came after; his some-time enemy, some-time friend, blue-skinned deceiver walking out in Jean’s place without a care in the world. Instead, he removed his clothes silently and took up a comfortable position on the couch.

She mounted him and they found their usual rhythm. This time, she made a point to stare into his eyes. He’d since become used to it, he no longer shied away from Jean’s face out of shame. He met her gaze fiercely, matching the ferocity of his pelvic motion.

As she came to climax, Raven felt her façade shatter. As she writhed and screamed, Jean’s skin turned blue, her eyes went yellow and her hair shortened. She, seemingly, experienced the transformation in slow motion; she caught the various split-second stages of expression on Logan’s face. He went from surprise, to panic, distress and then, finally, to anger.

He lashed out, grabbing her neck and tearing her off of him. He threw her to the couch in the same motion, cursed loudly and repeatedly, and rushed to get his clothes back on, as if he were a teenager and his parents had just walked in.

After an initial round of coughing and sputtering, and doing an effective job of stifling her fight or flight reflex, Mystique was the first to speak in full sentences. “Shit. I’m sorry. Do you want me to shift back?” Her accent was so unlike Jean’s.

Logan’s temper was not so much cooled as contained, as he circled his hands up into fists and kept them held firmly down on his work table. “No. It’s just – no, this’s gone on too long. I’ve fucked up so bad.” He was pitifully contrite.

“So that’s it? It’s over?!” Mystique was startled by her own voice as she practically shrieked out her question.

Logan was bitter. “Yeah! Damn right it is! And what do you care?!”

“What the fuck does that mean?! Of course I care, we’ve be sleeping together for years!” She could feel tears beginning to stream.

He regarded her with frustration and bewilderment until he focused on her face more clearly; on the redness beneath the blue, on the runny nose and trembling chin. A guilty sense of realisation washed over him. “Shit.”

She closed the distance and fell into his arms, sniffling into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and dropped his furrowed brow for a look of shame. It wasn’t the kind of shame he’d, all these years, imagined he’d one day be struck with. He wasn’t ashamed of soiling Jean’s memory, but of using this poor woman to do it.

In an instant, Mystique was transformed, in his mind, from a devious menace to a pitiable victim of his own selfishness. He rubbed her back and whispered a few dozen apologies into her ear. She muffled out a distraught response in between hiccoughs. “I love you.”

He didn’t know how he could possibly respond, despite realising now that he must’ve told her same thing more than a hundred times, so he just kept his mouth shut and his arms wrapped around her.

…

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Logan felt like the old man’s carer, propping the professor up as he tried to walk over to the limo. He crushed the feelings of pity that arouse whenever they did, out of respect for the man Xavier used to be.

“I’m fine, Logan, really.” His hoarse voice and audible breathing told a different story.

Logan didn’t contradict the man, however, and loosened the hold he had on him, humouring the understandable desires his boss had to maintain some semblance of dignity. When he stumbled back into his agent’s arms, Logan said nothing.

Just as Logan was considering just how frail Xavier was, and how badly something like a trip or fall could put him in mortal danger, the grotesque sight of Toad’s mutant tongue entered the scene, as if on cue.

It was aimed perfectly, and timed well, breaking the professor’s jaw upon impact and knocking him down to the cobblestone. The Wolverine reacted very fast, but not fast enough. He couldn’t save the professor from Toad’s first assault but he made a second extremely unlikely, slashing the bulbous tip of the tongue off in one stroke.

Toad let out a hideous shriek of pain, reeling his severed tongue back in and splashing blood all over the place. Logan didn’t let up, however, and pounced over to him to take advantage. In one leap he closed the distance and jammed his claws into his enemy’s chest. Both mutants’ chests were being pounded by hearts in panic mode. Logan’s eyes were made aware of this fact, if only for the briefest of moments, after he tore Toad’s chest off.

He didn’t have much time to admire the mess he’d made, however, as he immediately rushed back over to the professor. Hs chauffer had gone over to his side, and was holding him up as he dialled nine-one-one. Xavier was conscious, and talking, albeit incoherently, so Logan felt doubly helpless; he was angry with himself for not reacting fast enough, and frustrated that he couldn’t do anything with himself now, like CPR.

After the initial fit of adrenaline had subsided, he was able to think more rationally and began trying to figure certain things out; how Toad had known where Xavier would be, why he’d chosen to attack, whether he’d known what state his target would be in. It took him a while to come up with possible answers but, once he had, they all pointed to one particular woman.

After having buried Toad’s corpse in a hurry, she became the focus of his mental attention during the car ride over to the hospital, once the ambulance had come and gone. None of his thoughts were particularly pleasant, but he had to drop them once he got to Xavier’s hospital room. 

He stood guard for the night, monitoring each doctor and nurse coming in and out, intimidating anyone else who came anywhere near the door. His demeanour changed, at some late hour, however, when a doctor and nurse pair, whose description he would be unable to give, walked in. He did not think to inspect them, or to look in through the door’s window. Instead, he was under the distinct impression that they were completely harmless and that, in any event, there was probably no one important in the room anyway.

Magneto studied the door, for a moment, before getting comfortable. After realising that Logan had completely ignored them, he congratulated his compatriot. “Excellent work, Miss Wyngarde, your father would be very proud.”

Lady Masterminded offered him a coy smile in return before sitting down beside the sad sight of a once great foe. She was ready to begin probing his mind but, ever aware of her master’s sentimental side, she allowed Erik a few words with an old friend.

Magneto held one of Charles’ cold and bony hands before speaking, in a grave tone. “It pains me to see you like this. I once loved you, and still do in my own way. I fear, however, that our journey has come to an end. I had held out hope, for so long, that you would come to realise I was right.

If you’d have only shed your ego, we’d could’ve accomplished great things. Instead, your tenure with the failed X-Men project is over, as you lie crippled and sick.” He spat those last words out, blaming the professor for the condition he was in.

“And, at the same time, I can feel the walls closing in around me. The Brotherhood will be lost to me soon enough. And what then? Who will be around to stand up for the rights of a new generation of mutants? Who will raise them?”

He had to pause after that, his tone had started to become bombastic and he really didn’t want to fill the room with rhetoric.

“I’m going to do all I can to undone the damage you’ve caused. If my suspicions are correct, about what you’ve been hiding, then it may take years and cost me my life.” His eyes began to well up. “I may never see you again.”

He had to stop himself there, to keep his composure. He sank into a chair and motioned to Regan. “Alright, get on with it.”

With her master’s approval, she raided Xavier’s mind for information. Erik had told her, roughly, what she was looking for, so it was a quick and violent job. He noticed some flickering on a few of the monitors around the bed whilst she went about her business, but nothing that appeared too serious.

Once she was done, he removed his helmet. She looked ready to transfer whatever she’d found over to him but he stayed her with his hand. “No, allow me a moment first. I fear my opinion of this great man may be too badly tainted afterwards.” She nodded and Erik leaned down over the bed, pressing a firm chaste kiss upon the patient’s lips.

He withdrew after a second or two, sighing shakily. “Okay, show me.”

…

“Ace of clubs.” John enjoyed the expression he caused in Sofia every time he got one right. He knew that the gasp of surprise was partly feigned but the brought smile it board to her lips was infectious. He couldn’t help but feel happy around her, which was a welcome relief from the way other people had been making him feel.

“Amazing! Okay, next one.” Each time she reshuffled the deck, she made sure to add an extra splash of exaggerated thoroughness.

“Three of diamonds.”

“ _Excelente_! Okay, next one.”

As Sofia made sure he couldn’t possibly be cheating, shuffling the deck under the table, John made the mistake of looking over at Charlotte. She wasn’t as enthralled with him reliving his glory days as a carnival act, but she’d humoured him at first. Now, however, her attention was directed towards the other end of the courtyard, where James and Maria were making out as loudly and as grossly as they could manage.

His spirits having been dampened, somewhat, the entertainment value of the psychic card game, that he returned his eyes to, was significantly diminished. After reading Charlotte’s mind, and feeling her envy and longing, he tried to distract himself. Of course, there was really only one way he knew how. “I wish I could play some baseball.” 

He didn’t really expect a response, and was simply verbalising his feelings, as he gazed out over the grounds. Even the woods no longer held their appeal, but baseball was always something he could get excited about.

“Isn’t there a Danger Room programme for baseball? The rules say that first year students get access to pre-approved sports programmes.” John wasn’t particularly surprised to hear that Sofia had studied ‘the rules’ but he was intrigued by her question.

“I hadn’t even thought of that. That’d be great!” He thought about it for a moment, the pessimistic side of his brain trying to work out potential problems. “Would you play? I mean, it’d be really sad if I had to play on my own.”

Sofia’s smile fell once she realised she had to disappoint him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not really a sporty person.” She hated having to deliver bad news, and immediately tried to find ways to counteract it. “What don’t you ask James? I’m sure he’d agree to play.” She wasn’t sure, but it was worth a shot.

John sighed and became downcast. “No, he told me he hates baseball.” Seeing the news hit Sofia like a tonne of bricks, he continued. “I then told him I hate football and we only avoided a fistfight by agreeing to never bring up sports around each other ever again.” That lightened the mood and got a laugh out of her.

Just as John’s mind went to baseball whenever he needed to cheer himself up, Sofia was similarly bombarded with images she went to for comfort. “What about Jessica? She’s really sporty, maybe she’d play.”

He scoffed at that. “I doubt it, she doesn’t strike me as a team-sports kind of girl.” He considered the anti-social blonde. He hadn’t had a single pleasant interaction with her that he could remember. “Still, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” Contrary to the words spoken, he imagined, in fact, that it very well could.

He’d secretly hoped, throughout the conversation, that Charlotte would offer up her services but he had no such luck. Instead, she was still just as fixated on the James and Maria.  
Sofia offered him a knowing look of sympathy but, other than that, they sat in silent awkwardness for a while before he decided to head inside, under the pretence that he thought he could feel rain coming on.

Once in, he took off to find Jessica. As was the case more often than not, she was in the gym. He talked to her as she jogged on the treadmill, paying only as much attention as she needed to. “I was wondering if you’d like to play baseball with me some time. I can’t think of anyone else who would, and I’d rather not do it alone.”

“You mean in the Danger Room, right?”

“Yeah.” The fact that she hadn’t just flat-out refused was encouraging.

“Deal.” He lit up at that. “On one condition.” And his smile faded.

“Okay?”

“We run the gauntlet again, just you and me, and Charlotte if she’ll join us.”

The smile was back. “Sure, great – no, yeah, that’s fine – thanks!”

She returned his smile, though hers was briefer and brought about more by bemusement than joy.

…

Whilst Toad’s demise was the talk of the town amongst the Brotherhood lower ranks, with myriad theories both outlandish and more plausible being tossed out left and right, Mystique was pleased to discover that none of them were in any doubt as to his rightful successor; Psylocke should take his seat, one said, yes she was very impressive, another replied. Of course, she had a contingency plan in case Magneto chose contrary to the will of the membership; namely, she’d told Betsy to challenge any such random scrub he chose to a fight.

As ever, she knew Erik could be persuaded by a demonstration of naked ability more than by his own sense of political self-preservation.

She took up her usual position beside her, erstwhile, leader’s empty chair, as the masses gathered to hear his verdict. He arrived to a chorus of cheers, looking regal and sombre. The first words out of his mouth were lies. “I mourn the loss of a brave comrade and dear friend, as you all do.” Still, they were spoken with enough authority and gravity to bring the raucous crowd to a moment of silence.

“Alas, we cannot grieve forever, and it is in his memory that we choose to fight on. The integrity of our Brotherhood cannot be lost and its need for strong leadership must be met as soon as possible.

I have someone in mind to take a place by my side, to serve me as _loyally_ as Toad has.”

He turned to Raven, after that, and she returned him a devious smile. The words were music to her ears, she could hear him signing his own death warrant.

“Psylocke…” The crowd erupted into roars of approval and he basked in it, as if he knew it would be his last opportunity to do so. “…would you please join me?”

Betsy emerged from the crowd, keeping her composure well and not reacting to the grasping hands or slaps on the back from the crowd.

Mystique’s approving eyes followed her up to the balcony, where Erik was waiting with a hand reaching out. She took it and he placed his other hand firmly over the top, squeezing hers reassuringly and smiling softly. “I have need of you.”

Betsy bowed her head, partly out of respect and partly because she couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing what her lover had planned. She muttered her response. “It’s an honour.”

“I’m sure it is.” His jocular attitude caught her a little off-guard, and then doubt began to sink in as he continued, in a hushed voice that could not be heard by the great unwashed below. “You are just the woman I need to help me find Toad’s replacement.”

Sabretooth reacted strongly to his words, cursing under his breath and making aggressive strides towards their leader. He was stopped in his tracks by a glare from Mystique and her calming hand. She, too, was alarmed but, as ever, found a way to conceal her emotions quickly enough.

Magneto didn’t seem to notice, or pretended not to; Betsy couldn’t tell which it was. Instead, he simply went on. “You should come with me at once, the sooner we leave the better.” At that, he turned on his heels and motioned for her to follow him with a flick of the wrist.

Her motion was delayed, with a thousand thoughts racing through her mind, but she just managed to keep up with the old man. They descended one staircase after another, going past the deepest darkest corners of their underground lair. She’d never been so lost. Eventually, he led her through a dank narrow hallway, past concrete walls stained with green streaks and over the uneven puddle-filled ground. At the end of the hallway was a door, plastic and white, that would’ve seemed out of place had it not been so thoroughly covered in grime.

It was only as Erik opened the door, and it steadily creeped and creaked forward, that Betsy began to feel trepidation brewing. Was this a trap? An execution? How much did he know?

Panic flashed through her mind once he’d beckoned her in, as she discovered an old man, lying naked on the floor. He was gibbering and drooling and he stank of sewage. Her heart kicked into over-drive, anticipating her to fight or run for her life. Erik found a way to calm her nerves, however, as his voice exuded a distinct fatherly quality; at once demanding obedience and offering comfort. “Do not be alarmed. This man needs your help. That is why I have brought you here.”

She detected sincerity in his words, her posture changed and her shoulders, previously seized up, fell slightly. “I don’t understand.”

In response, Erik took hold of her arms and looked deeply and coldly into her eyes. “This man’s name is Jason Wyngarde. He’s very sick and you are his last hope for recovery. Even his own daughter could not reach him, but you are telepath of far greater ability. This is the man I wish to become Toad’s successor, and I genuinely believe he could make a difference to our cause.”

He said it all gravely and seriously, making sure to maintain eye contact the entire time, no matter how often Psylocke blinked and squirmed. 

“Will you help him?”

Phrased as a question, it was even more compelling than an order and Betsy could do nothing more than nod her head determinately. She kneeled down beside the man, holding her breath as best as she could, and looked into his eyes; they were glazed over and painfully dry. She felt a tremendous sense of pity and, also, of guilt as soon as she realised what she had to do. She gripped his shaking arm and closed her eyes, projecting herself into his unconscious mind.

Inside, she found a pristine white room. She seemed to be looking in on it through a one way mirror. She could see the man, clothed and fed far better than he was in real life, but still utterly broken. He was knelt down, over something she could not quite see, fumbling around and weeping openly. Just as she was about to interrupt him, a young woman appeared from the opposite corner of the room.

She did not know the woman, but guessed that it might be his daughter. She was gorgeous, with shiny blue eyes and luscious blonde hair. It was enough to inspire a hint of envy in Betsy, only a hint, though, because her primary feeling was one of crushing shame. She saw his daughter bend down beside him, trying to help him in some way, only to become tearfully angry.

She grabbed his head, searching his eyes for answers, only to be rebuffed by her angry and preoccupied father. She cried out for him to see sense, and he refused, petulantly, with a round of wrathful gibberish. It was at that point, when Betsy felt as though she couldn’t stand to see any more, that she walked through the window, only for it to disappear. In fact, as she looked around, she saw all of the walls fall away into the ether. Wyngarde’s daughter also fell away, like a ghost, she turned into a translucent spectre and then into nothing.

Betsy looked down at the man, expecting him to fade away as well. Instead, rather than fade away, he seemed to morph, slowly and subtly, into the man she’d seen before; his cheeks became gaunt and his clothes turned to dust. He was still more animated than his real life self, however, bawling and sputtering. With the walls gone, however, Betsy could now see the object of his madness and frustration. At first glance, it appeared to be a pile of shattered glass but, on further inspection, she could see that each shard revealed a small portion of an animated image.

The shards were fairly large, there could only have been a dozen or so in total, and from what she could make out; the image they made up was of Wyngarde himself, many years younger, dressed in finery and toasting to something with a glass of wine in his hand. Occasionally, the mad man would pick up one shard or another and try to put the picture back together, but he seemed to lose sight of the image as soon as be picked a piece up. He would then throw the piece down in frustration or hold it closely to his chest, wailing and sobbing, according to his mood; which seemed to change violently every few seconds.

She knew that she could put it together herself quite easily and began to. Once a few pieces had been put down correctly, she saw his posture change. He stood upright, though he was still drooling slightly and his speech was still gibberish, he seemed calm and looked over her shoulder with hopeful curiosity.

After another piece was placed down, he wiped the drool away with the sleeve of his jacket, which had once again appeared on his body. A further piece placed changed his pattern of speech. He began to mutter in short, but coherent, whispers. “That’s it.” “Thank you, dear.” “Oh, wonderful.”

Understanding, now, that the puzzle was the key to saving his damaged mind, her heart hardened. She knew what she had to do. She regarded him with a look of sympathy, and regret. He returned a pleasant, naïve, smile.

The smile was soon wiped from his face, however, when she pulled the few pieces she’d assembled back apart. He reverted, in an instant, to a rage filled jabbering wreck. Brushing away a few rogue tears, she did what had to be done. She pushed all of the shards with her telekinesis, sliding them across the room and over the edge. They fell into the void and for the brief moment she could stand to look at the man, she saw all of the emotion drain from his face. He collapsed to the floor, no longer shivering, no linger shouting, no longer breathing.

With that, she freed herself from Wyngarde’s broken mind, and opened her eyes. She was still holding his arm, though he was no longer moving. She could see that he was still alive, but she knew that the damage she’d done would take a grave toll on what little remained of his mental health. Steeling herself before meeting her leader’s gaze, she got up and turned around with a look of graveness and solemnity. “There’s nothing I could do.”

She saw Erik falter, and the shine leave his eyes. He sighed deeply before replying. “I understand.” After a few moments of silence, he piped back up, though his voice was totally free of enthusiasm. “Then, I suppose, only one candidate remains.”

Her heart rose but she dared not meet his gaze nor patronise him with feigned curiosity.

“You’ve won. It was foolish of me to trust you. Alas, I had no other option.” His words would have alarmed her if they hadn’t been so sullen and forlorn. “Tell Mystique she can proclaim herself Queen, or whatever it is she wishes. I will not risk plunging the Brotherhood into civil war by putting up a fight. My last orders as leader can be found in the top draw of my desk.”

With that said, he marched away, swiftly and purposefully. Betsy was left alone, stood next to her helpless victim, to contemplate her actions.

…

John sat on his bed, with his arms over his head, anxiously awaiting Charlotte’s arrival. He was afraid she’d gone off the idea of returning to his dorm. Whilst he was concerned for her health, should she keep having nearly sleepless nights, he had to admit that he was mostly interested in rebuilding their friendship for his own sake. He liked her a lot and felt, quietly, indignant about the damage that had been done to it. The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself he was, ultimately, blameless.

When she finally did turn up, he stifled his initial urge to get off the bed and dance for joy. Instead, he waited for her to make the first move. As it turned out, she’d decided to go with a sheepish greeting. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He tried to sound pleased but cool, and pulled it off.

She was already in her pyjamas, carrying her other clothes in from the bathroom. He couldn’t resist taking a look, when she bent over to place them in her wash basket, but had quickly shot under his covers by the time she’d done. She went up to her bunk and they all said good night, but John waited a while before dozing off.

He knew she’d rather he didn’t, but he decided to go diving back through her mind. He learned her secrets, felt her pain, knew her body and influenced her dreams. It was an exhilarating feeling, to inhabit the mind of a fellow psychic. He came to understand the scope of her abilities but, in doing so, reached his natural limits. He was forced out of her mind by a throbbing migraine, causing him to groan and bury his head under his covers, clutching it helplessly. It wore off after a few minutes, but left him a terrible warning to never delve too deeply ever again.

Not too long afterwards, Maria crept into the room. John and Charlotte were fast asleep but James was half awake, which was reflective of the fact that he only half expected her to show up. He had to blink heavily a few times to get his eyes to focus but, once he had, he saw his new girlfriend standing in her underwear, in the middle of the room, basking in the moonlight.

She looked great but he knew he couldn’t afford to just stare, as she was clearly on the verge of a giggling fit, her smile was wide and she was doing a little jig, swaying her hips to imaginary music. He called her over, with a stage whisper, to pull her down from an explosion of giddiness. “Do the girls know you snuck off?” His tone was one of mock scandal.

She wandered over to him, winking as comically as possible. “Oh, don’t worry, they’re sound asleep.”

In fact, they were not asleep at all. Lucy was complaining about having a fever, Sofia was offering her a cool hand to the forehead and some words of comfort, and Jessica was watching from above, cautiously and vigilantly. It all culminated in Lucy shoving Sofia away and rushing from the room. “I need the bathroom!”

“ _Ai! Ai! Ai!_ ” Sofia went back over to her bunk, exhausted and frustrated. “I can’t wait for us to get our separate rooms.”

Jessica couldn’t resist responding. She sat up in her bed, looking over the railing, and teased her. “Are you really sure about that?”

Sofia would usually have responded with meek backpedalling, but her tiredness and pent-up frustration, uncharacteristically, got the better of her. “Oh, will you stop that?! I never know if I’m coming or going with you! What’s your problem?!”

She instantly regretted her words but, to her surprise, Jessica responded with a smile. She rewarded the flustered girl with honesty. “My problem is that I’m not over my ex, and I’d expected, in a class of nine, to be surrounded by straight girls. I certainly didn’t plan for someone like you.”

Sofia’s fire had gone, replaced by appreciation and curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I want to hear it.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Jessica sighed in defeat. “My powers were activated when I was like twelve, and my _uncle_ took an immediate interest.”

“Why’d you say uncle like that?”

“He wasn’t my real uncle. He was more like an adoptive grandfather. I was raised in Chinatown by friends of my mother. My parents died or they went missing or something, I got told a lot of different things – look, anyway, it’s not important. Facts are; my uncle sent me away to train with Special Forces in the old country.”

“What was that like?”

“It was fine, I grew to like it – whatever, and you’re getting me off track. When I was fourteen, we went to a secret base in northern Ladakh. We were scheduled to be there for years, so my instructor – he was a powerful telepath – he told me to try and make friends. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit of a recluse.”

Sofia nodded her head, smiling to emphasise her agreement. “Go on.”

“So, obviously, one day I decided to check out the neighbouring village and…” Jessica got feel herself beginning to well up. “…I meant this girl. She was amazing.” The tears were rolling now. “She was this Indian girl, she was a few years older than me, and she was smart and beautiful and – look, no, I can’t…”

Sofia felt a great deal of sympathy for the sobbing girl but, naturally, she was also deeply frustrated that she wasn’t allowed to hear more. Her selfish side, faint as ever, lost in the end. “It’s okay.”

“Fuck!” That was Jessica’s way of drying her tears, to shake them off with angry. Afterwards, she sank into her bed and Sofia was left to wonder and worry about all three girls she was sharing a dorm with. If she hadn’t been so exhausted, she’d have gone to check on Lucy. As things were, she let herself drift off after about ten minutes of tossing and turning.

If she had gone to check on Lucy, she’d only have become even more worried. The white-haired girl had left the mansion, rushing off through the fields in the pitch black of night and into the woods. She’d realised what was coming once her fever turned to delirium. Psychedelic dreams creeping to the forefront of her conscious mind were the only warning she ever had that _the change_ was coming.

Once she was deep in the woods, she slowed down and gave in to the demon inside. In an explosion of psychic energy, the creature took over, transforming her image and releasing her id. It reached out, telepathically, to feel for a connection. Tormented by John’s psychic barrier, she thrashed around in petulant rage.

It took a tremendous amount of effort to slip through but, once she had, she immediately felt the benefits. The delicious minds of three telepaths filled her with nourishment, and sent her into an ecstatic and drunken state. It didn’t take long for her animal mind to narrow its focus. She could feel a scene playing out between James and Maria; the excited kisses, the moans stifled for quietness, the euphoria of secrecy and nervous energy, and the pleasure they both began to give and receive.

Lucy’s beast felt it all, and hungered for more. A suitable mate was easily found. She startled Billy into waking and bombarded his mind with all the necessary stimuli to get him into the proper position. He galloped through the mansion and out through the fields, having exploded into his strongest form; a hulking blue werewolf. His mind was being driven by hers, and she only allowed his more primal nature to remain unsuppressed. He met her in the forest and marvelled at her; she dwarfed him in size, her fur was snow white but her skin was dark blue like his. She appeared, on the whole, more monstrous and more feral but, apart from that and her magnificent antlers glimmering in the moonlight, she looked a lot like he now did.

After taking a moment to size him up, she pounced, sending him crashing to the floor and ripping at his chest. He was a far more skilled fighter, even with his rational faculties diminished, than she was, however, so he was able to manoeuvre out from under her. He kicked at her underside with his powerful hind legs and brought himself backwards and onto his feet in the same motion. He swivelled around, anticipating a renewed offensive, and when she tried to tackle him for a second time, he belted her with a savage clawed strike. She then whimpered, pretending to be hurt, and kneeled in submission.

If she’d really wanted to, she could’ve kept the fight going for hours, but that wasn’t what Lucy’s demon most desired. Instead, she continued her wounded animal cries, and presented herself to him. He responded quickly, after she’d flooded his mind with erotic images, and entered her violently. After about an hour of painful sex, they collapsed in exhaustion, reverting to their natural forms.

Too tired and delirious to carry her back to the mansion, and unsure as to what had happened for him to end up in the forest next to the naked girl, he shuffled over to her. She, too, was unable to get herself up, and found warmth and comfort in his large blue cuddle. The night passed without disruption, thereafter, apart from a single five second fit of woken thought.

It came after a disturbing dream; she was in a dark room, in a wooden cottage of some kind, and across from her, coming from a rocking cradle, she could hear the sound of baby crying. She went over to inspect it but, to her horror, found an elderly woman, shrunken and shrivelled up in the cradle. The woman turned to look up at her and spoke with maniacal glee. “Oh, thank you, child!”

Lucy woke up, shaken, with her heart racing but, after a moment’s contemplation, she felt Billy’s furry arm tighten around her instinctively and she fell back into sleep.


End file.
